


Dilucesco

by starseeker95



Series: A Prime and His Second [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Amica Endurae, Angst, Body Worship, Conjunx Endura, Fluff and Angst, Gentle Sex, M/M, Mech Preg, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 03:06:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 35,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseeker95/pseuds/starseeker95
Summary: Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus haven't been bonded for very long. When the young prime makes a shocking discovery, they are reminded that everything wonderful comes with a price.





	1. Chapter 1

Primus, this was so embarrassing.

Ultra Magnus was looking up at him, optics hazy with desire and want. The bigger mech’s valve was practically drooling as it clenched down on nothing. The squelching sound that it made told him that it was begging to be filled.

Rodimus could still taste Magnus’ lubricant in his mouth. It wasn’t every day that he got to spike the blue mech. He’d made the most of it by drawing his mate into two overloads with his mouth, more than happy to lap up the mess that the former Enforcer made as he moaned in ecstasy-

But he hadn’t tasted the same. The prime had enjoyed Ultra Magnus’ valve before, but it didn’t taste right. Almost like something was wrong-

How embarrassing.

“Rodimus? Is there s-something wrong?” 

Worry colored the SIC’s field and Rodimus forced out a laugh. “No! No, no. Everything is fine- just, uh-“

As the humans would say, he couldn’t “get it up.”

Rodimus’ spike refused to pressurize form its housing, staying steadfastly inside no matter what the prime did to rouse it. No matter what he did, he couldn’t redirect his desire to his spike. It was all flooding directly to Rodimus valve, caused him to drip copious amounts of lubricant onto the berth and across Ultra Magnus’ legs. The captain imagined how good it would feel to hump one of those huge legs, to just get off with his valve and pant as he dragged his anterior node over his mate’s armor-

It would feel so good. 

Rodimus tried once more to coax his spike out to play, sticking his fingertip inside of the housing to check for catching metal ridges. Anything to explain why his spike remained dormant. Dormant…

The young prime finally lay flat on top of his bigger mate and sighed heavily. “I think, uhm… I think I’m gonna go see Ratchet.”

Rodimus squeaked as Ultra Magnus immediately sat upright, instantly alert. “Are you not feeling well?” The bigger mech took great care to lift his mate off of himself as he made to get up. It was as if he’d completely forgotten about his open, dripping, loosened valve.

“Woah, woah, hey! I feel fine, alright? Just… I really wanted to do this with you. I know we’ve been planning this night, but I couldn’t even self-service yesterday-“

The prime averted his gaze, rapidly becoming frustrated again with his sudden inability to use his spike. They’d been in the midst of celebrating their one stellar cycle since becoming bonded to each other. Rodimus rarely spiked as he wasn’t quite confident yet in the berth, a remnant of the young prime’s past. It was a part of him that he was trying to put aside and process. 

Usually hidden under an air of bravado, Rodimus had next to no confidence behind closed doors. He had just begun to combat such issues with the help of Ultra Magnus and Drift, his conjunx and amica respectively. To say the least, it had not been easy coming into his own after the mental and physical abuse that he’d suffered at the hands of Megatron not so long ago.

Tonight would’ve been a major milestone for Rodimus. He would’ve been the one spiking, something that he’d been unsure of doing for quite some time. His inability to get his spike to pressurize was a major blow to his confidence.

Ultra Magnus kissed the side of his beloved’s helm. “Would you like for me to come with you to see Ratchet and First Aid?”

“Nah, I’ll be okay. I’m sorry for not being, uh- able to-“

A large fingertip rested against the struggling speedster’s mouth. “I’m sure that it is something minor. Perhaps a coding error? An easy fix…” The blue mech’s voice dropped to a low growl. “I’m certain that there will be other opportunities for you to frag me.”

The wording was so unexpected from his mate that they would’ve usually driven Rodimus to the edge of his release. Instead, his spike remained unresponsive. An unexpected jolt of charge through his valve surprised Rodimus and he rolled away from the other mech quickly. He tried to hide the soft glow that he knew graced his face by looking at anything rather than Magnus. “Yeah, maybe. I better get going. Shifts will be changing and I wannna know what’s up before I head to the bridge later.”

The blue mech reached for his hand and took the prime’s smaller hand in his own. “I shall wait to hear from you then, dearest one. I will see you on the bridge.”

“I’m sorry for messing this up for us.” 

The words were blurted from Rodimus’ mouth before he knew that he was saying them. His mate paused where he’d begun to stand from the berth, casting a sense of comfort through his field to brush against the prime’s clamped plating. Ultra Magnus retook his seat on the edge of the berth. “You have nothing to apologize for. Perhaps it is simply not the right time.” The bigger mech bent until he could plant a kiss on Rodimus’ forehelm. “Do not worry over this. We are quite early in our bonding still. There is ample time to try again.”

The red speedster nodded slightly and faked a smile as Magnus moved toward their shared washracks. Once the blue mech had helped him clean up the worst of the mess they’d made of the berth covers, they both retreated to the main living area together. Once there, Ultra Magnus offered to heat up some fuel for his lover but Rodimus declined with a mumble. The former Enforcer didn’t push; something like this would occupy his mate’s processor for a while. The prime would want some time to be alone.

After bidding his conjunx goodbye and promising to let him know what Ratchet said, Rodimus departed for the medbay. Hopefully, everything would be back to normal by the next evening cycle.


	2. Chapter 2

Ratchet greeted him into the medbay with all of the excitement of a funeral advisor. Seeing that it was Rodimus, the old medic had given an exasperated roll of his optics before throwing his thumb over his shoulder. The young prime followed the wordless directions and made his way to the berth farthest back into the empty medbay. Once there, he hopped up onto it, feeling an unusual heaviness settle in his chest.

What if he’d damaged something? If he had, then how? Everything had been fine not so long ago. It wasn’t like he slept around during his time with Megatron or with Ultra Magnus, so he knew that he hadn’t caught something-

“What have you done this time?” Ratchet’s optics were hooded tiresomely, like the poor medic was put out by Rodimus’ antics. It was probably true to some extent. After all, the red speedster was usually the one talking Drift into trouble.

“I- uhm-“

“Well?”

Rodimus looked away, nervousness coloring his field. What if it was something stupid, like a bit of coding? The prime began picking at his fingers without realizing. It was probably nothing. He shouldn’t have come and bothered the grouchy mech-

A heavy sigh came from the former CMO as Ratchet reached toward the mech on the mediberth. Though he wasn’t the type to comfort very much, the medic seemed rather contrite as his hand moved to rest over Rodimus' own. It was only then that speedster realized that he’d been fiddling nervously, bending and twisting his digits until they creaked. “Sorry, Ratch.”

“My fault, Rodimus.” Another weary sigh escaped the old ambulance before patient optics met Rodimus’. “What’s going on with you?”

Since Megatron’s violence against their captain, everyone had been more aware. The crew looked out for each other more and knew what to watch for thanks to Rung. It had soon become apparent that Rodimus had long suffered in silence because he didn’t know who to turn to. As a whole, the ship had been working on uniting together. They worked to make themselves more available to each other. 

Even Ratchet was trying to be more approachable. The medic had been working on tempering his infamous sarcasm and making every injury brought to him feel like it was worth a look. Even if the injury was caused by his two favorite speedsters racing in the halls.

Rodimus couldn’t help but hesitate further. Sensing his unease, Ratchet relaxed his posture, falling into one of familiarity rather than one of strict professionalism. After all, they shared Drift as an amica and a conjunx. As a result, they knew more about each other than just casual acquaintances. “Rodimus, is this an injury?” The red mech’s plating looked spotless from where he stood.

“No- I mean- I’m not sure.”

Ratchet had learned that kid gloves were best when it came to Rodimus. Impatience just caused the young prime to clam up further, made him try to hide his pain like it was a bother to whoever he shared it with. The old medic moved to stand directly in front of the seated speedster, trying to catch his optic. “Can you tell me if it hurts at least? Maybe then I can start to figure out what is going on.”

“Um, so Mags and I were, uh… doing stuff.”

“Doing…stuff?”

“We were gonna interface.” Rodimus looked up at the medic to find Ratchet as unflappable as ever. 

Though the prime himself felt embarrassed by the topic, the other mech’s only reaction was to pull a datapad from his subspace and begin taking notes. “I see. Did you feel something tear or…?”

“No, no. We never got to it. You see…”

The medic couldn’t help but cock an optical ridge at the younger mech’s continued unease. “Yes?”

“I was gonna spike him and- and it won’t come out.”

Well. That was new. “’It won’t come out’… you mean your spike won’t?” The red mech nodded, his cheeks blushing heavily. “Okay. Do you mind if I take a look? I’m gonna plug in too, see if it’s a coding error.”

Rodimus was nodding quickly, extending his forearm where his medical ports resided. After a moment, the still-anxious prime triggered his modesty panel open. 

Ratchet flinched back in surprise, barely concealing a shout as a flood of lubricant burst from the exposed valve. It was a definite indicator of recent arousal on Rodimus’ part. The rush of fluids took the red mech off guard because he instantly tried to stand up and escape the flood that spilled from his valve.

Hurrying, Ratchet shoved his patient back to sit on the berth before he could get up. “Stay put. Do you always lubricate this much when interfacing?”

“No! This is- this-“ Rodimus’ optics were wide as he tried to sit still in the mess loosed by his valve.

The old medic moved around the berth and pulled the curtain, blocked them from the front door’s view. It had been a quiet cycle so far, but that could always change in a sparkspun. Ratchet moved behind the young prime and slowly lowered him backward. “Lay down and kick you peds up on the mediberth. There you go.”

“Ratchet, what’s wrong with me?”

“How are you feeling right now?”

Rodimus hesitated again. His field, however, was wide open, transmitting signals of desire and arousal. “I-I don’t know. Ratchet, I feel like I need something-“

“Knees up and apart.” Once the speedster had followed his instructions, Ratchet dragged over a stool and seated himself at the edge of the mediberth between Rodimus’ open legs. 

The valve itself appeared to be very irritated and swollen, still messy and running lubricant down onto the berth. Rodimus’ was obviously still excited from his play with Ultra Magnus. But the effects shouldn’t have lasted this long. And just as the speedster had said, his spike remained tucked neatly away in its housing, refusing to pressurize even the slightest bit.

Ratchet hadn’t seen this for a long time, not since before the war. 

The medic wasn’t the type to pray to Primus or any being for that matter. But he considered it briefly as he formed an idea as to what was wrong with the ship’s captain. “Alright, Rodimus. Stay laying down, I’m gonna go find a testing swab.”

“A swab? Do you know what’s wrong?”

“I have a hunch.”

Rodimus tried to keep from fidgeting as the former CMO disappeared from his little curtained area. The medic’s field had always been locked down tight, never showing what he felt. But it had exploded for a just a second when Ratchet had been examining his interface array. Another wave of discomfort came over him and Rodimus couldn’t help but think of his mate’s thick spike, weeping prefluid-

The prime felt his valve tighten at the thought and he couldn’t suppress a moan at the feeling as more fluids were squeezed from his clenching entrance.

It wasn’t long before the curtains parted and Ratchet came back in, a swabbing mechanism in his hand. He’d already slicked the utensil with artificial lubricant to make its passage into Rodimus’ valve smoother. The sight of the swab caused the red speedster to suck in a deep vent. He did want something in his valve terribly. But the thought of anyone touching him besides his conjunx sent pulses of disgust out through Rodimus field.

Ratchet paused his forward movement, sensing his patient’s unease. Even without the swab test, the old medic was almost certain that he knew what was going on. Still, he had to be sure. “Rodimus? I promise to be quick with this, but I need you to answer some questions for me. Can you do that?”

“S-Sure.”

“When was the last time you and Magnus interfaced and he spiked you?”

The question sent an almost palpable wave of excitement through Rodimus’ field. “Well, it was Mims. Maybe half a deca-cycle ago. Why? Do you think it tore something? But he’s not big enough to do it that easily. And he never touched my spike-“

“Did Minimus overload inside of you?”

“Well… yeah. But what does that have to do with-“

Ratchet continued pressed the swab deeper into the young mech’s valve. Though the swab was more slender than a single one of Rodimus’ own fingers, it still seemed to repulse the speedster as he tries to wiggle away. “Easy now. Almost done. What about merging? Did you spark merge soon after he overloaded inside of you?”

“Ratchet, I don’t think this is-“

“Did he?” 

The young prime nodded just as the medic felt the swab tip breach his gestation tank, easily penetrating through the gel wall. The sensation of being so deeply penetrated caused Rodimus to moan deep in his chassis and try to close his legs. His field showed a mix of pain-pleasure as Ratchet held his legs open. 

When he was satisfied that he’d collected a sample from the gestation chamber’s wall, Ratchet withdraw the swabbing tool from the speedster’s angry valve. He carefully turned to a side tray and dipped the used swab into a test tube of milky-white fluid. Now all they could do was wait. If the fluid in the tube turned silver…

As he sensed the anxiety growing in Ratchet’s field, Rodimus found that he couldn’t stop his frame was shaking. His plating was practically rattling when he managed a hoarse whisper. “Ratchet? Am I gonna be okay?”

The ambulance didn’t look away from the tube for a second. “What, Rodimus?”

“I asked if I was gonna be okay. Did you find something?”

Ratchet turned to connect optics with the young prime. “Rodimus, no matter what we find, it will be okay. You will be okay. I promise you.”

On the tray, Rodimus saw the fluid in the test tube changing colors. “Then why do you seem so upset?”

“I’m not upset, just worried. Everything will be fine-”

“Worried for what? Ratchet, what in the Pit do you think is happening to me?”

Rodimus received no answer as the former CMO turned back to the tube on the tray. His fingers noticeably trembled as he lifted the test tube in front of his optics. The red mech on the berth could see that the tube’s contents had turned an alluring silver color. 

Ratchet’s voice was soft when he lowered the tube and looked his captain dead in the optic. “Well, Rodimus Prime. Congratulations. You’re sparked.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was too soon. Way too soon.

It hadn’t even been a meta-cycle since they’d bonded! What would Magnus say? What if he was mad? What if he didn’t want to keep it? What if he didn’t want to keep Rodimus?

“Kid, you’ve gotta calm down.”

Rodimus looked up from his lap to see Ratchet standing in front of him. The medic had just finished helping him sit up and still had his hands on the young prime’s upper arms. A loud gasping reached Rodimus’ audials and he realized abruptly that he was hyperventilating, his helm heating up as processing trees formed to quickly.

“Rodimus, look at me. Slow your venting until it matches mine. That way I can talk to you.”

Keeping wide optics on Ratchet, the speedster gradually managed to calm himself. But even as his vents evened out and he felt his chassis beginning to cool, he couldn’t stop his processor from creating every possible scenario. 

_You’re sparked. ___

__Primus help him._ _

__Rodimus was excited, or at least he wanted to be. He’d never dreamed that he’d be a creator._ _

__Back in the gutters of Nyon, carrying wasn’t common. Most mechs and femmes there were too weak and ill to support life outside of their own. Some had resorted to using drugs to keep away the risk of carrying. Rodimus knew of some who had their gestation tanks removed entirely so that they could sell the parts for money.  
More than one that Rodimus had known discovered too late that they were carrying. He remembered the way that they’d gotten, so desperate to live and protect the precious miracles that grew within their bellies. Rodimus had watched them fail and pass away in the alleys, their arms cradling half-rounded torsos as both carriers and sparklings-to-be wasted away and became parts to be harvested and resold._ _

__No, Rodimus had never thought he’d be a carrier. He hadn’t been a buymech so he’d never had to worry about it back in Nyon. That didn’t mean that he didn’t still avoid the risk of it like the plague. Even upon reaching maturity, when his seals had been sore for the want of another mech to take them, Rodimus had held out. No one had been sure for a long time exactly what it took to get sparked up. So the hot rod had avoided intimacy all together, refusing to become one of the dead, sparkling-heavy bots in the gutters._ _

__Yet here he was. Carrying his conjunx’s child while he captained a ship on a mission. Rodimus had come a long way from Nyon._ _

__But what about Ultra Magnus? What if he didn’t think that they were ready? What if he wanted to terminate? Even though the speedster wasn’t showing and wouldn’t a for some time yet, Rodimus moved his palms to lay them against his slim belly. Even now, his gestation tank was beginning to start the building process. He would need transfluid soon-_ _

__But what if Manus didn’t want to provide it? What would he do if-_ _

__“RODIMUS!”_ _

__The sound of Ratchet yelling made the young prime jump and he clutched at his torso even tighter. “S-Sorry, Ratch. I’m freakin’ out.”_ _

__“Do you… not want a sparkling? I would suggest that you talk to Magnus first, but you can terminate if you-“_ _

__“NO! No, Ratchet, I don’t want to terminate. Primus, no.”_ _

__The old medic narrowed his optics at the other mech. “Then what’s got you so panicky? Everything will be fine, we have the proper means of delivering and caring for a sparkling here. I’ll run a few further tests to ensure the integrity of you carrying systems. I can provide counselling and prenatal care-“_ _

__“What if he doesn’t want it? What if Mags wants to- to kill it? Oh, Primus-“ Rodimus had begun to tremble uncontrollably, his hands splayed protectively over where his gestation tank was located. He would be all alone. If Magnus decided that it was too soon to have a sparkling… well Rodimus couldn’t terminate. He couldn't bear the thought of having this miracle ripped away-_ _

__“Listen to me very carefully, Rodimus.” The ambulance’s wise optics managed to catch the distressed speedster’s and held his gaze. “Ultra Magnus is not a cruel mech. You know this. He’s your conjunx endura, you know that he would never hurt you or leave you. Trust me on this. You need to talk to him.”_ _

__The young prime’s spoiler pitched upward at the thought of telling his mate. The possibility that Magnus might be happy about this? “I have a shift on the bridge soon. I can tell him afterward-“_ _

__“Ah, ah, ah. This is a pretty big occasion. I’ve just commed Drift. I didn’t tell him why, but he and Thunderclash are more than happy to cover yours and Magnus’ shift on the bridge.” Ratchet lay a gentle hand on the prime’s arm. “I don’t need to tell you how rare something like this was before the war. It was impossible during it. Rodimus, you may be the first to birth a sparkling in a free Cybertron since our race came to be.”_ _

__The revelation made Rodimus pause. “This… is pretty big isn’t it?”_ _

__Ratchet chuckled and shifted on his stool. “It’s huge. For both you and Magnus and also for our race. I suggest that you comm. Magnus and tell him the good news.”_ _

__“Yeah. Yeah, I should.”_ _

__With a final pat to Rodimus’ arm, the old medic rocked to his feet, joints creaking as he did. “You’ll be fine. And Rodimus,” Ratchet looked at him a final time then, “if he feels that he is not ready, do not hesitate to call upon Drift and myself for assistance. I’m sure that Magnus will be as excited as one such as him can be. But if that is not the case, I ask you to remember that you have more options than termination. You are not alone in this.”_ _

__Rodimus nodded slowly, his helm still spinning with all that he’d just discovered as he climbed to his feet._ _

__Ultra Magnus loved him, he knew that. But old doubts are hard to kill, especially when love is still new. As the speedster made his way out of the medbay, he steeled himself the best that he could and sent a comm. to Magnus. It requested that they meet at their quarters as soon as the blue mech was able._ _


	4. Chapter 4

He’d just reached the outside of the door to the bridge when he received an urgent ping from Rodimus. Ultra Magnus paused halfway through entering his keycode into the door to read the comm. :Please meet me at the hab. Urgent.:

The blue mech hesitated, glancing back at the doors to the bridge. His shift would start soon, he couldn’t just abandon his post-

Another ping had him turning away from the doors and heading back the way he’d come. :Drift and Thunderclash have our shift. Hurry.: 

Ultra Magnus sent an answering comm. that he was on his way. Such a short message from Rodimus was unusual. Knowing that his smaller mate had been headed for the medbay to see about his interface array, the blue mech worried that perhaps the prime had received bad news. If that was indeed the case, Ultra Magnus vowed to stand by him every step of the way-

As he neared the hab, another ping lit up on his HUD. This one was from Ratchet. He hadn’t expected to hear directly from the grumpy medic. Ultra Magnus opened the comm.

:Be patient.:

What was that supposed to mean? :I do not understand.:

:You don’t have to. Just do it.:

The comm. ended from Ratchet’s end and Magnus was left puzzling over the brief, cryptic words. Something very serious must be going on if the former CMO himself had deigned it necessary to warn Ultra Magnus ahead of time.

The blue mech stopped outside his and Rodimus’ shared hab and took a moment to gather himself. Ratchet’s message, coupled with the hurried comms from his conjunx, had set the former Enforcer on edge. He didn’t know what waited for him beyond their habsuite door. But he did know that whatever had befallen his Rodimus was something that they could get through together.

Ultra Magnus entered the keycode and waited as the door slid open.

 

~o0o~

 

Inside the habsuite, Rodimus had been pacing ever since he’d returned from seeing Ratchet in the medbay. 

The young prime couldn’t quite control the pulsing of his spark and the ragged quality of his vents. He pulled on his fingers, spoiler tight up behind him. How was this going to go? How did he bring it up?

Primus help him. If only he knew how Ultra Magnus was going to react-

Rodimus spun around, nearly tripping over the couch corner when he heard the front door of the hab beep a correct keycode.

Ultra Magnus pushed his way in before the door had completely opened, his optics searching until he found his mate by the couch. Upon spotting Rodimus, the big mech moved forward quickly, his field reaching out ahead to wash over the speedster. “Rodimus. I came as soon as I received you comm. You went to see Ratchet; what did he tell you?”

_You’re sparked. ___

__The young prime had to look away from the concern in his mate’s soft optics. He could feel the other mech trying to reach out to him, his field a comforting blanket of concern and reassurance. Ultra Magnus didn’t even know what was going on and he was already giving his conjunx his full support. The unconditional loyalty in his lover’s field drew tears into Rodimus’ optics._ _

__“Rodimus? Rodimus, what did Ratchet say?” Before the young prime could react, Ultra Magnus was towering over him and taking one dainty golden hand between his own. “Whatever it is, we will get through it together.”_ _

__The gentle words only forced more tears from Rodimus’ optics. He took a halting vent and managed a quick glance up into Magnus’ face. The blue mech looked deeply concerned, his brow pulled low as he tried to read his mate’s tumultuous field. Rodimus quickly looked away and sniffed as he tried to calm himself down. There was no way around it. He had to tell him-_ _

__“Rodimus, please. Let me help you. Please tell me what you have learned. To see you hurting makes my spark ache.”_ _

__“M-Mags- I-I’m-“ The red mech looked away again, rebooting his vocalizer one last time. “I’m sparked. Ratchet tested it and everything. I’m sparked.”_ _

__The field that had been swirling around him fell still. Silence consumed the room save for Rodimus’ quiet sobs as Magnus ceased to vent. When the young prime dared to meet his mate’s optics, he found the blue mech’s to be unfocused and staring. It was unusual to see the former Enforcer struck speechless. The strong white hands that had been holding onto Rodimus’ let go of the smaller one and fell back to Ultra Magnus’ sides._ _

__Taking the release of his hand as a rejection, the prime hung his helm in acceptance. “Mags, I’m so sorry-“_ _

__“You’re…sparked?”_ _

__Rodimus didn’t dare lift his gaze from where he’d fixed it on his mate’s chest. The blue mech sounded gruff, like he couldn’t quite get the words from his vocalizer. He must’ve been very mad if he was having so much trouble forming words._ _

__This was it. This was where Magnus would insist that it was too soon. He would tell Rodimus to get a termination. It was logical after all. They weren’t ready to take this step._ _

__The young prime couldn’t hold back a jump as the bigger mech in front of him moved. Another apology formed on Rodimus’ lips, this one for flinching away from his conjunx-_ _

__Rodimus Prime barely had time to react before the hulking form of Ultra Magnus toppled over. The floor shook as the huge mech collapsed, passed out cold._ _


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a wonderful dream.

Ultra Magnus slowly woke, taking a deep vent as he came online. Rodimus had commed him, telling him to come back to their shared habsuite. The blue mech had gone there immediately; he remembered feeling worried as he entered their keycode. Upon rushing into the room and fearing the worst, Rodimus had given him wonderful news. His smaller mate, his beautiful little prime, had told him that he was sparked. That he was carrying their child.

Flexing his limbs, the former Enforcer felt a sense of unexpected sadness to find that it had only been a dream. He hadn’t known how appealing a sparkling sounded until he had been faced with the reality of it. But Magnus knew that it was far too early in his and Rodimus’ bonding to have a sparkling. He doubted that his mate would be interested in starting a family for some time yet. 

Besides, the likelihood of becoming sparked had been nearly impossible since before the war began. They would have to be trying for it to actually happen and the blue mech didn’t see Rodimus being on board with actively trying for a creation.

“A slagging good job you did. What did I tell you? ‘Be patient.' Were you? Of course not.”

The sound of Ratchet’s voice off to his right surprised the former Enforcer and he quickly onlined his optics. He didn’t expect to be staring up at the medbay’s ceiling. The blue mech’s voice was a dull croak and he cleared his vocalizer. “Ratchet, where…?”

“Rodimus won’t be bothering you for a while.”

The venom in the medic’s voice was beyond the usual sarcasm that Ratchet usually dished out. Ultra Magnus tried to sit up and felt a rush of energon go straight to his processor. What in Pit had happened? He settled for turning his helm in the former CMO’s direction. “Ratchet, have I been injured somehow?”

Ratchet stopped piddling with his datapad and looked down at his patient. His field was icy. “You passed out in your hab. Nothing serious.”

“Where is Rodimus?” The dream flickered through his mind and Magnus remembered the tears on his mate’s face just before it ended. Though he knew that it couldn’t have been real, the thought of his conjunx crying made him worried all the same. “Is he on the bridge or…?”

“I told you that you scared him off. Other than that, he’s fine.”

“How did I scare him?”

Again, his question made the fidgeting medic pause. With a brief clench of his fists, likely to calm himself, Ratchet turned away from the chart he was reviewing and glared down at the SIC. “You think that being angry with him because he’s sparked wouldn’t scare the poor kid? He needs you now more than ever and he thinks that you want him to kill it-“

_Sparked? ___

__Ratchet must’ve noticed the look on the other mech’s face. His rant trailed off and he narrowed blazing optics at Ultra Magnus. “You… aren’t angry about it.”_ _

__Rodimus was sparked? He was… carrying? The dream… hadn’t been a dream at all._ _

__Again Ultra Magnus struggled to sit upright. “Rodimus is… he’s…”_ _

__Oh Primus above. He was going to be a sire. He was going to be a sire!_ _

__The old medic was looking at him like he’d grown two helms. “He thinks that you've rejected him. He called me and said you’d gotten mad before you fainted-“_ _

__“I’m- I’m going to be a sire. Where is he?”_ _

__“I don’t know. He’s likely hiding somewhere.”_ _

__The blue mech struggled to hold himself together. His mate was carrying his child. How had Rodimus gotten the impression that he didn’t want it?_ _

__How could he not want it? This was a miracle, something to be celebrated-_ _

__He could already see it: Rodimus moving slowly, always smiling, glowing, as he began to round out. The handsome speedster would stay in berth, too heavy to move as the sparkling grew strong and healthy within him. Magnus would bring him fuel and massage his spoiler and cuddle him in all the blankets that he could find. He would hold his mate when the pains came, one at a time, he would comfort him and protect him as the time neared-_ _

__But Rodimus was hiding. Convinced that he and the sparkling had been rejected._ _

__“Ratchet, I must find him this instant. There has been a terrible misunderstanding.”_ _

__The medic considered him for a moment releasing a resigned sigh. “He’s with Drift in your hab.”_ _

__

__~o0o~_ _

__

__Drift didn’t know what to do as he watched his amica pace the room._ _

__Rodimus was frantically crisscrossing the main living area, growing increasingly agitated with each passing klik. Ratchet had told Drift about the young prime’s condition before asking the swordsmech to watch him until further notice. From what Drift had gathered in the hurried conversation with his conjunx, Rodimus was sparked up and Ultra Magnus was upset about it. The revelation of the red speedster’s condition had apparently caused Magnus to faint and Rodimus had immediately commed Ratchet for help, worried that his conjunx had been injured in the fall._ _

__Once the distraught prime had relayed what had happened to him, Ratchet immediately paged Drift on the bridge. Without a second thought, the TIC had left the command to Thunderclash and quickly went to his sobbing amica._ _

__Drift’s initial reaction had been intense anger. He'd always been highly protective of his amica, but he'd been even more so since the events surrounding Megatron's abuse. He'd failed his best friend once. He wouldn't let Rodimus be hurt again.__

____

____

__To hear that Rodimus was rejected in his state made the one-time Decepticon want to flare his plating and bare his fangs. What kind of mech would reject his own mate, his own sparkling?_ _

__Even though he’d much rather be hunting Magnus down, Drift sat on the couch and watched the captain walk the room. “Roddy, listen to me. Ratchet already told you that you’re not alone. No matter what happens, you have us to help you through this."_ _

__“He’s going to leave me- he doesn’t want it-“_ _

__“If that’s true, then Ratch and I will help you.” Drift felt part of his spark break as he said those words._ _

__He and Ratchet had tried for a long time to get sparked. But after some time of trying and failing, they’d given up. Drift had always known that his past drug use and starvation in the gutters would catch up with him somehow. He’d just never expected it to keep him from the joy of parenthood._ _

__The discovery of Drift’s inability to carry or sire a sparkling had been a terrible blow to both him and Ratchet. After the discovery, the swordsmech had found his conjunx crying brokenly in their hab. Ratchet, usually so strong and unaffected, had been nearly broken by their spark test results. It had taken a long time for either of them to accept the reality that they would never be able to raise a sparkling of their own._ _

__Drift finally stood and snagged his pacing amica’s wrist. Rodimus barely reacted to his friend’s touch as he turned to look at the other speedster. “What do I do, Drift? I love him and- he doesn’t- oh, no-“_ _

__Rodimus’ optics suddenly went wide and he stiffened. Drift had no time to react as his friend suddenly doubled over and purged onto the floor._ _

__The white speedster darted forward to catch the prime as Rodimus’ sides heaved, drawing in gulps of air while his tanks clenched and continued to empty. Drift whispered quiet words of reassurance to the other mech. “Shh, sweetspark. You need to calm down. For you and the newspark both. You’re alright, I’m here…”_ _

__By the time it was over, Rodimus’ plating was covered in a fine sheen of condensation. Drift moved to swipe some of the droplets from the captain’s damp forehelm, using his other arm to support Rodimus’ quaking frame. Glassy blue optics turned toward the swordsmech and Drift felt his spark break a little at the desperation that he saw in them. “I can’t do this, Drift. Not without him. Not without-“_ _

__The hab door slid open._ _

__Ultra Magnus stepped in, optics searching and bordering on wild. Drift glared and put himself between the former Enforcer and his amica. Ratchet had said that he wouldn’t tell the blue mech where Rodimus was, not until Rodimus wanted to be found. Yet here Magnus was, his field filled with nearly frantic intent as his optics finally landed on Rodimus._ _

__When the blue mech took a step forward, Drift hissed and allowed his plating to fluff up in warning. “Leave.”_ _

__Ultra Magnus stopped in his tracks, confusion in his field. “Drift, there has been a gross misunderstanding-“_ _

__“Really? Because I think you made it pretty clear-“_ _

__“Mags?”_ _

__Rodimus lifted his helm to fix exhausted optics on his mate in the doorway. He looked bedraggled there in his amica’s embrace, like he might soon collapse. It was then that Ultra Magnus saw the puddle of purged energon rapidly spreading across the floor. “Rodimus? Are you alright?”_ _

__Blinking quickly, the red mech nodded and tried to straighten upright in his friend’s arms. Rodimus' brave face was admirable, but it didn’t fool Ultra Magnus. He was visibly shaking with fatigue and… fear?_ _

__Drift snarled again when the blue mech took another step forward, reaching for his mate. “I said leave, Magnus. You’ve done enough.”_ _

__The former Enforcer had just opened his mouth when another voice came from just behind his shoulder. “It really was a misunderstanding, Drift.”_ _

__The angry swordsmech connected optics with the newly-arrived Ratchet. “How do you misunderstand something like this? His conjunx is sparked and he wants to abandon him. He didn’t even give Rodimus a chance-“_ _

__“’Abandon’?”_ _

__All optics turned to the former Enforcer. The big mech rarely whispered, always conducting his speech with an authoritative air of confidence._ _

__Ultra Magnus was focused on his mate, his face filled with a deep sorrow. “You… think I would abandon you? That I don't want a sparkling?”_ _

__“Y-Yes. Your field… before you fell… and you didn’t say anything-“_ _

__“Oh, Rodimus.”_ _

__Magnus’ voice was so soft as he gazed at his beloved prime. The red speedster’s face was tear-stained and drawn; he was obviously feeling some of the sickness that came with carrying. The anxiety that he was feeling was probably making it far worse than it needed to be._ _

__Ultra Magnus felt disgusted with himself. The fact that he was the cause of such unnecessary distress and discomfort…_ _

__Drift finally moved from his amica’s side as Ultra Magnus slowly came forward. When he was close enough to touch him, the blue mech reached to caress the side of Rodimus’ face. “There is nothing that could bring me more happiness than having this sparkling with you.”_ _

__“R-Really? But it’s too soon-“_ _

__“I have spent my entire lifecycle waiting for you, Rodimus Prime. It doesn’t matter to me if we are newly bonded or not.”_ _

__Hope crept into the red speedster’s field as he looked up at the bigger mech. “You- you want to do this with me?”_ _

__“I want nothing more. I was stunned earlier, not angry. Not at all. Rodimus, I desire nothing more than to start a family with you.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Drift and Ratch...


	6. Chapter 6

Ratchet and Drift departed shortly after that, the swordmech shooting Magnus a final look as he went. When the door finally closed behind them and silence filled the room, the former Enforcer released his conjunx’s hands. Rodimus looked up, doubt still in his optics until the bigger mech knelt before him. “Mags?”

Wordlessly, Ultra Magnus continued his descent until he was balanced on his knees in front of the young prime. Ever so gently, he took the speedster’s slender hips in his hands, fascinated anew with how easily his fingers could encircle his mate’s waist. That would all change though as the sparkling grew. Rodimus’ torso would begin to thicken and curve outward...

The blue mech leaned forward, guiding his mate’s body toward him until he could press his lips against Rodimus’ belly.

Above him, the prime remained frozen, watching as the other mech peppered his abdomen with kisses. Magnus’ hands left his hips and strong arms encircled Rodimus’ frame, holding him tightly as he continued to lavish attention on the speedster’s frame. He soon began to feel dizzy as the blue mech’s mouth wandered across his plating, leaving not an inch of his body unkissed. Magnus’ hands never stopped moving either, making sure that he covered every seam and piece of armor as he wrapped Rodimus up in his field. 

Gentle fingertips traced up the young prime’s spinal strut, making him arch into Magnus’ fervent kisses. A kiss to the carrying mech’s sternal seam drew a gasp from Rodimus, followed quickly by a moan as practiced fingers massaged his spoiler hinges. The expressive spans of metal, hiked high with lingering nervousness, began to droop under the attention, falling lower and lower until Ultra Magnus could run a fingertip up the edge of one. The motion drew a sigh from Rodimus who leaned in to rest his forehelm against the top of Magnus’ helm.

The blue mech soon felt his mate beginning to falter, his legs giving out under all of the attention that his body was receiving. “Perhaps you should go on to the berthroom. I will be along shortly.”

The prime stepped back on wobbly peds, his optics hazy as he regarded the other mech. “I love you, Mags.”

“And I love you, Rodimus.”

With none of his usual pep or grace, the dazed red mech made his way to the berthroom, his field heavy with arousal and exhaustion. 

Once he’d gone, Ultra Magnus stood and made his way to the washracks in search of a towel. The purge on the floor was beginning to permeate his olfactory senses, turning his tanks as it dried. As quickly as he could, the former Enforcer went about sopping up the worst of the mess. He decided that he could give the floor a more thorough cleaning later. After the morning cycle’s events, he had more important things that needed his attention.

Tossing the dirtied towel into the chute, the SIC made his way to the berthroom. 

Ultra Magnus wanted nothing more than to show his precious mate just how excited he was for the sparkling. He wanted to merge, to provide proof of his devotion to this miracle that their love had created. Primus, he wanted to make slow, aching love to his mate, to worship him and display to him that he would be there for him every step of the way. 

But the sight of Rodimus on their berth convinced him that such things would have to wait. By the time the blue mech had joined his mate in theebrthroom, the little prime was recharging quietly, his vents even and his field muted. He didn’t stir as Ultra Magnus entered the room and sat on the edge of the berth. 

Rodimus looked so peaceful where he lay on the covers, his arms hugging his pillow to his face. It was almost as if it were the beginning of another normal cycle, like the blue mech would have to wake him soon for their shift on the bridge. 

But as Ultra Magnus settled himself in the berth, he knew that things would never be the same again. Rodimus was sparked. Magnus was going to be a sire, a creator. Everything had changed.

Ultra Magnus was so immersed in his own thoughts that he almost didn’t notice it when Rodimus turned over to face him. It took a quiet giggle and a tentative brush of fingertips against his arm to bring the blue mech back to the present. He shuttered his optics before focusing on his conjunx.

The young prime’s field was still nervous, cautiously testing the waters as he let it flicker against his mate’s. Rodimus seemed unsure of what to do as he cast his gaze down between them. “Mags… Are you really happy about this? You don’t have to pretend. I can figure something out…”

The bigger mech moved until they were pressed flush against each other, his arm thrown around the speedster. He reached out with his field, showing Rodimus how excited and thrilled he truly was. “I am going to be a sire, my prime. If you are in good health and want this, then I am more than happy to support you through the process. I have faith that as long as we are together, everything will be okay.”

Tears sparkled in the red mech’s optics and Rodimus scooted forward to nuzzle into the former Enforcer’s neck. “I’m so happy. I can’t even tell you how happy! I’m gonna have a sparkling! Your sparkling!” 

Bending his helm to press a firm kiss to his laughing mate’s lips, Ultra Magnus felt a surge of love for the mech on his arms. Rodimus had been through so much yet somehow he surrendered his entire being into Magnus’ care. His love was pure and he had come to place his full loyalty and trust into the former Enforcer, believing him when he said everything would be okay. The depth of Rodimus devotion had Ultra Magnus gripping his conjunx even tighter against himself. “I love you, my prime.”

“Love you too, Magnus. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Him?

“It’s definitely a mechling. I just know it.”

“Rodimus, he hasn’t even begun to develop in your-“

“I just know it, Mags. I’m the carrier and I say it’s gonna be a mechling.”

Ultra Magnus sighed, electing to indulge his little mate. “Alright. I cannot wait to meet him either then.”

Rodimus’ vents slowly began to even out against the bigger mech’s neck cables as he fell into a peaceful recharge. As darkness closed over his own processer, Ultra Magnus knew that everything was exactly as it should be.


	7. Chapter 7

Slow sex was his absolute favorite. The feeling of Ultra Magnus’ thick, heavy spike as it dragged in and out of his valve was like nothing else that the young prime had ever experienced before. Gentle hands and quiet gasps and whispers of praise in his audials. It was sublime, like everything in the universe had ceased to exist except the mech holding him as they made love.

Of all the time’s they’d interfaced in the morning, this was different. Rodimus was desperate to feel his mate’s array as it knocked against his own housing. He thirsted for the divine sound that was Magnus’ low groan whenever the bigger mech’s completion neared. But lovemaking while he was carrying? Oh, it was so much more personal.

The morning had started out slowly, with the former Enforcer waking first. He’d allowed his smaller mate to sleep in, tucking him in firmly amid several blankets and pillows. When Rodimus had shown the first signs of waking, Ultra Magnus had prepared a special blend of his mate’s favorite energon, topping it off with fresh shavings and some vitamins that Ratchet had insisted that he take. 

Ever since Magnus had discovered that he would be a sire, he rarely let the speedster out of his sight. Even his mate’s smallest discomforts were taken seriously. The blue mech had devoted himself to the one who carried his child, lavishing Rodimus with every bit of attention that he could.

But as the carrying process wore on, it felt to Rodimus like his body only wanted one thing and one thing only: sex. 

Rodimus found himself thinking about it all the time. Of course he was used to having a healthy interface life with his conjunx. But nowadays it felt like no amount of berth time could sate him.

Ratchet had said it was normal. The growing frame in his gestation tank needed transfluid to grow. While the carrier’s job was to build the sparkling, the sire provided wet minerals and raw materials for the carrier’s body to work with. The carrying process was hard on a bot’s body, soaking up energy and resources that the carrier took in as fuel. Having the bulk of it donated by the sire certainly helped the process along.

The prime whined as Magnus’ spike knocked against his over-sensitized ceiling nodes. “Oh, Mags- so good- oh, Primus-“

The bigger mech reached and entwined their fingers, his hips jumping a little when Rodimus’ hungry valve tightened with pleasure. “A-Anything- nnnh- for you-“  
Rodimus’ completion continued to draw near and he felt his spinal strut curving to meet every one of Ultra Magnus’ thrusts. The former Enforcer sighed weakly against his audial and the speedster felt his engine rev in his chassis. At the sound, Magnus’ movements stuttered briefly and he was forced to pause, trying to hold off his overload for as long as possible.

Though his body ached for transfluid and to merge with his conjunx, Rodimus was also proving to be a very needy carrier. He was only happy when they were touching or when he had Ultra Magnus’ undivided attention. When it came to interfacing, it was about far more than getting transfluid for his forge. Rodimus needed the gentle handling that his mate provided, the feeling of closeness that only their joining could achieve. Hugging and cuddling was nice, sure. But lovemaking, drawn out and unhurried? The young prime was never more relaxed or unguarded at any other time.

Rodimus stiffened as ecstasy crashed over him, his valve clamping down and milking the engorged spike. His hips jerked and his vocalizer shorted out in the middle of a loud cry as the prime allowed the overload to take him. Distantly, he heard Ultra Magnus choke on a moan, his optics flaring white as Rodimus’ thirsty valve massaged his member. The blue mech gave one final jerk forward, perforating the gel wall that closed off the speedster’s gestation chamber. 

It wasn’t long before hot transfluid spurted into the carrying mech’s forge, taming the worst of his body’s burning need. The former Enforcer growled low in his chest as his siring protocols took over. Ultra Magnus made sure to stay firmly hilted in his mate’s sloppy valve as his transfluid chamber tightened and emptied in a series of bursts. Only when the borderline painful squeezing in his lower belly ceased completely did Magnus finally pull his spike from the prime.

Rodimus lay limply on the berth, completely drained of energy and more than a little disoriented after such a hard overload. He mewled quietly, optics still half-closed and dim. “Mags? Cuddle meeeee…”

The bigger mech had flopped onto the berth beside him upon pulling free and grunted as he reached for the captain. Even Ultra Magnus’ arms trembled as they reached and pulled the little carrier against himself, rolling to face his lover. “You cannot know how precious you are to me, my prime.”

“After that one, I think I have an idea.”

A chuckle from the bigger mech surprised Rodimus and he scooted to look up at the blue mech that held him. “You are the most dear thing to me in this life. You and the sparkling that you carry.”

“Oh, quit it, Mags.” Rodimus felt himself begin to blush and he moved to bury his helm against Ultra Magnus’ chest plates. The movement caused his gestation tank to slosh and the prime forced himself to be still as a bolt in nausea threatened to ruin the moment. He wouldn’t throw up in the berth.

Seeming to sense his conjunx discomfort, Magnus reached a hand up and stroked Rodimus’ spoiler, careful not to jostle him too much. Almost immediately the prime relaxed, allowing his field to waft gratefully against the other mech’s field. Ultra Magnus continued to massage his stiff spoiler hinges as he spoke. “What I say is true. I would gladly die to protect you and our child.”

Tears pricked Rodimus’ optics and he snuggled closer to his beloved mate. Such devotion would’ve one time made him scared, would’ve driven him away. But now his gestation tank was hard at work and his spark held a tiny visitor. Magnus was safety and home. They’d created a life through their love for one another. 

He could feel the newspark orbiting in his spark casing. Sometimes its consciousness brushed against his, like it wanted to remind him that it was there. It was a surreal feeling to share his spark with another in a non-merging way. He was never alone, whether he was at Swerve’s (don’t tell Ratchet), in the hall, on the bridge, or sparring with Drift (again, don’t tell Ratchet).

Rodimus pulled back enough so that he could look up at his mate. After everything he’d been through at Megatron’s hands, he’d finally found were he belonged. He was loved and respected. “I love you, Mags. I’m so lucky that I found you.”

“I love you too, my little prime. Far more than you’ll ever know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just got called and they offered me the job of my dreams? But I just took another job??? I'm so panicky, I don't wanna make anyone mad


	8. Chapter 8

Of all the things that Rodimus expected that cycle on the bridge, he did not expect to receive a transmission from Cybertron.

He had been standing at the front, staring out into the eternal black when Ultra Magnus rested a hand on his back. Rodimus jumped; he’d been completely immersed in his thoughts. The blue mech murmured an apology before straightening and regarding the abyss as well. “We are receiving a comm. from planet-side. I have it on hold in the back office if you wish to take it.”

“Any idea who it is?”

“It appears to be from Starscream.”

Rodimus couldn’t conceal his shiver as he turned to follow Magnus to the back office. A call from the infamous seeker could mean anything. As he stepped into the room and heard his mate close the door behind him, the young prime’s processor came to a rather daunting conclusion: What if he was warning them that Megatron had escaped?

He watched the blue mech move toward the ringing comm. and took a seat behind the room’s only desk. No, that couldn’t be right. If Megatron had escaped, he would’ve killed Starscream already. Besides, as far as Rodimus knew he was being kept in stasis until the trial.

With a nod to his mate, Rodimus looked at the screen and waited as Ultra Magnus activated the comm. A moment passed before a familiar face materialized on the screen. A face that was half-covered and definitely not Starscream. “Wheeljack! How’s it been?”

The scientist cast a glance over his shoulder before answering. “Not too bad, not too bad. The ship?”

Rodimus was practically bouncing in his seat. He couldn’t wait to tell his fellow Wrecker the news. “Things are great actually. You’re never gonna guess what happened, ‘Jack-“

“Before you tell me, I have some news too. It’s why I called.” 

Rodimus caught the fidgeting motion of Wheeljack’s hand in his lap. The scientist wasn’t usually the type to look so tense. “Wheeljack? What’s wrong?” 

Then the young prime remembered. Wheeljack was Starscream’s conjunx. The jet was an ex-Decepticon, just like Megatron. He was notorious for being merciless and often harsh in nature. Rodimus watched his friend cast another look behind himself. He also noticed the haggard quality to Wheeljack’s optics, the way they were sunken in. What if Starscream was hurting him somehow? Was that why he called? 

The captain leaned forward slightly and noticed that Ultra Magnus, just outside of the camera’s view, was also fixing his attention on Wheeljack’s strange behavior. Unsure of whether the white mech was alone or not, Rodimus dropped his voice to a whisper. “What did he do?”

“What?” Confusion lit on Wheeljack’s tired face.

“Did Starscream hurt you?”

Through the screen, Wheeljack’s optics blew wide. “Primus no! No, no. I just…Star is sparked.”

Rodimus’ couldn’t help but smile as he shared a glance with Ultra Magnus. “Yours? Well congratulations then!”

When the prime went on to tell his comrade that he himself was sparked, Wheeljack’s demeanor brightened. Clearly, the exhausted sire-to-be was happy to know that he and Starscream weren’t only ones going through the strenuous creating process. It was clear that the scientist needed something, but Rodimus couldn’t resist telling the scientist about his own happy condition.

Worry began to grow in his spark when the white mech requested that Ratchet also be included in the comm. Instead of asking, the young prime activated a split screen and paged Ratchet to join the conversation from the medbay. 

It was several moments before the salty medic picked up. “Rodimus, if this is about the- oh. Wheeljack. Wait, is Starscream-“

“Close. That’s why I’m calling you.”

Wheeljack explained that his conjunx refused to have any other medic during the emergence other than the Lost Light’s own Ratchet. But in order for the ambulance to be there, it meant that the Lost Light would have to change course and return to Cybertron immediately. As the medic and the scientist began discussing Starscream’s current condition, Rodimus turned and motioned his own mate closer.

Ultra Magnus moved to stand just over the prime’s shoulder, still out of the camera’s view. Rodimus kept his voice soft, trying not to interrupt the mechs on the screen. “What should we do? That’s a pretty big detour.”

“There are plenty of qualified medics on-planet. Starscream would be fine with any of them, I’m certain.”

“Yeah, but… he doesn’t trust anyone.”

The bigger mech paused to glance at the screen, noticing that Ratchet had begun one of his famous rants. “I understand that he doesn’t. But that does not give him the excuse of altering our mission and redirecting the course of our ship in such a dramatic way.”

Rodimus had no reason to help the seeker. Starscream had killed many of his friends during the war without showing mercy and he had tortured just as many more. Yet the speedster hesitated over turning the other mech’s request down. He allowed a hand to drift to his torso, cupping his growing belly as he thought.

What if he were in the same situation? Of course he wanted Ratchet there for his own emergence, Rodimus had already decided that. Birthing sparklings wasn’t common; he’d seen what it could do to the carriers down in the gutters before the war. It had the potential to be deadly. Could he really deny the other carrier a medic that he trusted to help him through something so risky?

“Mags? I don’t think I can deny Screamer having Ratchet there. I mean, what if it was me back on-planet? I’d want Ratchet too.”

The big mech gave the screen a look before he gazed back down at his conjunx. “If you believe that it is the right thing to do, then I will follow you, captain.”

“Are you his slagging mate or aren’t you? Why hasn’t he seen a medic?”

The sound of Ratchet angrily shouting form the screen drew Rodimus attention and he faced the screen once more. “Ratchet, you-“

“No, I won’t calm down. Starscream has needed prenatal care this entire time and he obviously hasn’t been receiving it.”

Wheeljack visibly flinched at the medic’s tone and Rodimus fought to keep his mouth shut. “I can’t make Star do anything that he doesn’t want to do. You know his history, Ratchet. I won’t push him to do anything-”

“Perhaps in this case you should’ve.”

“Would you push Drift? With everything that’s happened to him?” Rodimus couldn’t help but interject into the conversation in defense of his former fellow Wrecker. “It sounds to me like Screamer’s picked the medic that he wants. I think it’s pretty interesting that you’re the only one he trusts to be there.”

The prime turned away from Ratchet’s scathing glare and instead fixed kind optics on the scientist. “I’ve spoken to Ultra Magnus and he agrees that we change course immediately for Cybertron. You up for it Ratch?”

“Of course I’m up for it. I said an oath didn’t I?”

Rodimus couldn’t hold back a little ped kick of excitement under the desk. It was another adventure after all. “Alright then. Let’s get this ship turned around, eh Mags? We’ve got a sparkling to deliver!”


	9. Chapter 9

“Your spark casing isn’t strong enough to handle the separation.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we need to make some tough decisions here.”

Rodimus sat on the edge of the mediberth, facing Ratchet. Beside him stood Ultra Magnus, silent and supportive. The bigger mech reached and silently took his mate’s cold hand into his own. “What do you mean, Ratchet?”

The old medic had just finished a spark scan was reviewing the results when he came upon an abnormality in the carrying mech’s spark casing. He hadn’t yet told the prime what he’d found, but by the subdued expression on Ratchet’s face, it couldn’t be good. The ambulance lifted the scan readings on the datapad so that they could see. “Do you see this line right here? This is the pulse activity of your spark reading at the beginning of the mission.” Ratchet paused long enough for them to read the graph and line. Then, he moved his finger lower on the same graph, down to a line that trailed along the bottom. “This. This is your spark reading right now.”

The reading was far too low for a speedster frame. Even for a truck or a larger grounder, the reading was significantly lower than what was considered healthy. Ratchet traced the line as he spoke, squinting at the screen. “This line indicates that your spark isn’t spinning fast enough. It’s likely caused by your body trying to compensate for the fragility of your spark casing. If it spins at a healthy rate that is good for both your energy levels and the newspark’s, the casing would literally shatter under the stress.”

Rodimus continued staring at the screen. He squeezed Magnus’ hand even more tightly in his own, feeling what little energy that he had go into the action. “There has to be something that you can do. What about Perceptor and Brainstorm? They might have an idea. Something to thicken the spark casing or relieve some of the pressure-“

“It doesn’t work that way.” Ratchet’s optics were sad as they caught the prime’s. “That’s why I think it’s time to make some tough decisions.”

“I know and I’m ready to make them.” Rodimus could feel his mate’s field pulling away, radiating a deep sorrow that he didn’t understand. “What will it take? I don’t care what I have to do, Ratch. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Rodimus, there’s nothing I can-“

“There has to be something. You always know what to do, you always have a way. I know you, Ratchet, there’s gotta be-"

“I’m sorry.”

The medic’s quiet words took the speedster off guard. Why was he sorry? Ratchet could fix this. He was the fragging CMO during the war! Why would he be sorry-

Realization struck the younger mech like a hammer blow.

Ultra Magnus felt his conjunx’s field fade into nothing and he directed his attention from the datapad in Ratchet’s hands back to the red mech at his side. Rodimus’ face was void of color, his lips moving soundlessly as he stared up at the medic in front of him. The former Enforcer moved closer to his mate and reached to brush a hand along the prime’s spoiler. 

Rodimus didn’t seem to feel the comforting gesture. His voice was a halting whisper, so quiet that it was almost undetectable. “Ratchet… you can’t mean- no- no-“

“You need to calm down, Rodimus-“

“NO!” The red mech’s optics were huge with fear as he turned to Magnus, his arms wrapped around his torso. “You can’t let him take it away- please, Mags-“

The reality of the situation was nearly enough to bring the former Enforcer to his knees. Somehow, he managed to gather enough strength to gather his mate to his chest. The action effectively blocked Ratchet from the little prime’s view. “Listen to me, Rodimus. You must listen to the medic and calm down.”

“I won’t kill my sparkling! I won’t! Oh, Primus, help-”

Ultra Magnus moved to cup the back of the smaller mech’s helm in his large hand. He nodded to Ratchet and the medic dipped his helm before slipping out of the room. The door clicked shut with a dull thud behind him.

Rodimus’s venting was growing too fast. “I won’t kill him! I won’t- I can’t-“

The bigger mech hushed him again and pulled the prime off of the mediberth and into his arms. Slowly, he began to rock, still cradling the sobbing Rodimus to his chest. “I would not ask you to, sweetspark. But we cannot change what Ratchet found. At least this way, it won’t suffer. It has not bonded to the frame yet.”

But his attempt at comforting his mate only made the red mech cry harder. The prime’s slender frame shook violently against his larger partner, vents ragged as he began to hyperventilate. Ultra Magnus could feel a mixture of snot and tears mixing on his plating, but he didn’t care. The former Enforcer knelt before Rodimus and drew him against his neck plates. Tears threatened to spill from his own optics as he tried to comfort his upset mate. “I know that this news is not easy, my prime. It breaks my spark as well to hear it. But I promise you that I will be with you through it all. I promised it and I meant it, Rodimus. No matter what the outcome, I will stay by your side.”

When the younger mech had settled down enough, Ultra Magnus commed Ratchet to come back in and tell them about their options. The medic who was infamous for his gruff nature was gentle as he lay his hand on Rodimus’ upper arm. “I know that this cannot be easy. But it might kill you and the sparkling both if you keep it. The likelihood of you carrying to term is slim and the risk of losing both of you is too high.”

With tears still leaking down his pale faceplates, Rodimus’ vocalizer rebooted twice before he could talk clearly enough to be understood. “How. How did this happen?”

“How did what happen?”

“My spark chamber. Why is it too weak?”

Ratchet looked away, down at the medbay floor. “Rodimus, I don’t know if I-“

“Yes, you do know why. I want you to tell me.” Rodimus’ never took his attention off of the old medic even as Ultra Magnus stroked his spoiler.

When Ratchet finally pulled his gaze from the floor, he cleared his throat and met the carrying mech’s optics. “When he shot you. During the war. You were saved by the Matrix of Leadership, but the damage was already done. There is too much scarring on your spark chamber for it to be strong enough to carry a newspark to term.”

Before the medic had finished talking, a fresh torrent of tears of begun to fall down Rodimus’ face. But unlike before, the prime didn’t make a sound. He simply listened silently until the doctor finished before turning to his mate.

He thought he’d been free of the silver mech and all of his tortures. Rodimus had found love, had found hope. He’d found his conjunx and a ship that backed him 100% at last. But it seemed that even now, Megatron could steal his happiness, his very child, out from under him.

Rodimus voice no longer shook as he regarded Ultra Magnus. “I’m ready to go now, Mags.”

Ratchet spoke up, his hand stilling from where he’d ben taking notes on his datapad. “When do you want to schedule the procedure?”

“I… I’ll comm. you. Soon.”

The medic and the blue mech watched as Rodimus stepped out of his mate’s arms and left the room, his field strangely flat as he went.

Ratchet watched the prime leave the medbay before turning to the former Enforcer. “You must be strong for him, Magnus. Don’t let him fall back to the way he was before this.”

Ultra Magnus nodded, his optics still on the door from which his mate had left. “I will do everything in my power to help him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It went well! I really liked being a bartender, but I was trained to be a librarian/archivist. I can't wait to start Monday. :)


	10. Chapter 10

After receiving the news, Rodimus retreated to the habsuite. Ultra Magnus followed him there, subdued and unsure of what to do. It was clear that his mate wanted to be left alone. But the blue mech also knew that the prime shouldn’t be left to himself with such a depressing diagnosis.

The former Enforcer gave the other mech his space once they made it back and the door had closed behind them. He watched, silently, as Rodimus went about gathering all of the blankets that they owned and wrapping himself into a cocoon on the couch. The smaller mech’s field was flat and motionless, a stark contrast to Rodimus’ usual excitable nature.

Once his conjunx had settled down, Magnus retreated to his armory. It was only when he’d closed the door behind himself that he collapsed to his knees.  
Ultra Magnus pressed a hand tightly against his mouth, trying to hold in the hiccupping moans that threatened to spill from his vocalizer. His spark physically hurt as it turned, Ratchet’s diagnosis manifesting as actual pain in his chest. He knew that he should go and comfort his conjunx; after all, Rodimus was the one carrying. Magnus knew that the prime was blaming himself for what was happening to their child.

The old medic’s words replayed repeatedly in the blue mech’s helm as he knelt on the floor, tears streaming from his optics. His mate could die if they didn’t terminate. His Rodimus, his beautiful, courageous conjunx, was unable to carry because a monster had shot him mercilessly through the chest and left him adrift. The same monster who took his mate’s confidence, his crew, his freedom and almost his very life. Now, as if in a final parting shot, Megatron would also take their first born before they’d even met it.

Forcing himself up from the floor on shaking legs, Magnus stripped off the Armor. His spark was too heavy to bear the load. 

As the Magnus Armor’s helm was lifted away, Minimus’ face felt cold in the room’s air. The green mech realized that his cheeks were soaked with tears and he dragged a hand over his face, pressing his fingertips into the sides of his nasal bridge. They had been so happy at the start of the cycle. Everything had been so perfect, so exciting-

Slowly, the grieving sire managed to bring his rasping sobs under control. Ratchet was right. He needed to be strong for Rodimus right now. Upon clearing the last of the moisture from his optics, the green mech made his way out into the main living area.

Rodimus hadn’t moved from his place on the couch, staring blankly into space with only his helm poking out of the blanket nest. The red mech didn’t react as his mate came to sit beside him.

Neither of them moved for several moments before Minimus finally broke the silence. “It will be alright, my prime. I am able to carry. I would be more than happy to do so if you still desire to raise sparklings.”

The speedster’s optics remained distant and dull. “He ruined me.”

The statement left the former Enforcer turning to gape at his mate. Did Rodimus really believe that? That he was ruined? Surely he didn’t think... “You are far from ruined, Rodimus.”

“I’m broken. Damaged. Can’t even carry our sparkling. I- I can’t give you- I-“

“You are far more than just a carrier. You are my conjunx. You are my lifelong mate and partner. This is a bump in the road we travel, dear one. You are whole and perfect, not ruined or broken or damaged.”

Rodimus turned to his companion, his face drawn and gray. “How can you say that? I’m used up. What good am I now if I can’t even protect my own child? He’s not even here and he’s k-killing- my- oh-“

Recognizing the warning signs, Minimus darted to reach a waste bin kept just off the side of the couch for this purpose. He shoved it under the speedster’s chin a klik before Rodimus’ heaved and purged into the offered bucket.

The green mech gently petted at the carrying prime’s spinal strut until Rodimus had finished and flopped back down onto the blankets. “Rodimus, you are worth everything to me. Do you understand? It does not matter to me whether you can carry or not. I am simply glad to know the risks so that we can avoid further tragedy.”

Minimus referred to losing both his mate and his sparkling. Even though it hurt deeply to have to terminate this sparkling, the green mech was willing to do it if it meant ensuring the safety of his beloved prime.

The young speedster swallowed thickly, grimacing at the aftertaste of purged energon. As Minimus pulled the bucket away and headed with it toward the washracks, Rodimus watched him go. “I can’t do this, Mims. I can’t let him do this to me.”

“Rodimus, it’s over. You know that Megatron can’t get to you anymore-“

“I meant Ratchet.”

As the former Enforcer knelt and emptied the waste in down the drain, he didn’t miss a beat. “He won’t hurt you, my prime. He will likely sedate you and then-“

“I meant at all. I can’t let Ratchet take it from me.”

“If you are more comfortable with First Aid-“

“No, slag it! No one is taking my sparkling from me! No one!”

The outburst caused Minimus to pause as he washed out the bucket with the shower head. He looked up at his conjunx from the doorway.

Rodimus still sat on the couch, his gaze fixed on the wall where the televid was mounted. His voice was strong when he finally met his mate’s gaze, optics hard and determined. “I want to try. I have to try.”

“Rodimus, please-“

“You said you’d stay by my side. I can’t let Megatron take anything else from me, not without a fight.”

Minimus sighed and finished cleaning the bin. “You heard what Ratchet said. You spark casing isn’t strong enough-“

“Megatron won’t take this from me! He’s taken enough. My home, my friends. I won’t give him my first sparkling too. I have to try, Mims.”

“Do you understand that I could lose you?” The green mech left the washracks, slowly approaching his mate on the couch. He knew that his argument was selfish and that Rodimus would see through it immediately, but he couldn't stop himself from venting his fear. “I would rather have you and have another chance at a family than lose both you and this sparkling.”

As he knew that his mate would, Rodimus did see through it. His field softened to something less defiant as it reached to caress gently against Minimus’ shaking body. “Ratchet said the chances were slim. He would’ve told us straight up if there was no chance at all. I want to take it. I have to take it.”

“I know you do.”

The little green mech sat on the couch and cuddled up against his conjunx. Rodimus pulled him closer and bent to kiss the former Enforcer’s cheek. “Are you with me on this, Mims?”

Minimus turned his helm until his lips brushed against Rodimus’. “Upon becoming your Second-in-Command, I swore to follow you to the ends of the universe. When I became your conjunx, I promised it for the rest of our lives. Of course I will be with you whatever you choose. Every step of the way.”


	11. Chapter 11

Ratchet turned back one last time before he boarded the transport. “I need a date for the procedure by the time I get back, understood? No more of this ‘let me try’ slag. It’s too dangerous. I know it’s not easy and I hate pulling the medical override card, but you’ve pushed me to it. Don’t make me pick the date for you.”

“Yeah okay, Ratch.”

“I mean it Rodimus.” The medic hesitated a moment longer before his field softened. “I know you want to believe that there is a chance. But it’s too risky. The ship needs her captain.”

The young prime looked away toward the waiting transport. “I’ll be fine until you get back. Take care of Starscream.”

With a snort and an eyeroll, Ratchet turned and followed First Aid onto the transport, a sparkling kit in his hand. The sight of it sent a pang of jealously through Rodimus’ spark. After all the bad that Starscream had done, he was the one birthing a healthy sparkling with the seasoned battle medic at his side. Rodimus suppressed the urge to glare after the two medics and spun away from the open door, back toward the bridge.

They’d just entered Cybertron’s orbit earlier that cycle. It was just in time too as Ratchet received a panicked comm. from Wheeljack just as they arrived into the atmosphere. The scientist had been in quite a state, nearly panting in his distress as he reported that Starscream’s seal had broken and that he’d gone into labor. 

Rodimus had wasted no time in preparing a shuttle for departure, paging Windblade to meet the medics and direct them to Starscream and Wheeljack’s quarters. The Camien had been more than helpful and said she’d be waiting for them.

Once the shuttle had disembarked, it became a waiting game. The red mech paced the bridge, agitation coloring his field and a grimace decorating his handsome face. He couldn’t seem to sit still. Why did the seeker get to have a happy ending?

“Rodimus?”

The prime jumped and whirled around to find Drift at his shoulder. His amica’s optics were searching, his hand reaching halfway to Rodimus’ arm. “You okay, mech?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m good. Thanks.”

“You can’t lie to me, you know.”

“I’m not, I just… why does Starscream get to have a sparkling and I… I have to…” Rodimus turned his attention away from his friend and busied himself with lining up the datapads on a nearby desk. The swordsmech watched as his best friend struggled to reboot his vocalizer before continuing. “I never really wanted one until now. It’s different with Mags, you know? I love him and… I can’t even give him a sparkling.”

Drift stepped forward and placed a gentle kiss to his amica’s cheek. He couldn’t help but notice that Rodimus was slightly warmer than usual, likely due to the stress of everything going on. 

When he pulled back again, Drift took his friend’s hands into his own. “But Mags can carry. This isn’t the end. You still have a chance at happy ever after.”

“’Happy ever after’?”

“It’s an Earth saying.”

“Oh.”

The white speedster fought down the feeling of jealously that roiled within. He and Ratchet had tried for so long, only to find that it was his fault. He felt like he had ruined it for Ratchet, like he had deprived his hardworking, dauntless mate of the joys that creatorhood brought. It was Drift’s fault that they would never have a sparkling. Looking at his amica, Drift would’ve given anything to be able to sire a little one of his own.

Seeming to sense his friend’s thoughts, Rodimus turned an apologetic look on his amica. “I’m sorry, Drift. I didn’t mean to-“

“No worries, babe. It is what it is.”

The pair stood quietly for a few moments before Drift began to notice the steam. It had started to escape from between the break's in his amica's armor, wafting across his red plating before vanishing. 

It was barely perceivable at first, but as time ticked on he could see that Rodimus was beginning to lean to one side. “Hey, Roddy? You good?”

Quickly, the red mech blinked before he shook his helm. Confusion shown on his features as he regarded his amica. “I’m sorry, Drift. I didn’t mean to…”

“Are you feeling okay?” Cautiously, the white speedster moved closer to his friend, noting the tint on the prime’s cheeks.

By then, other mechs had noticed their captain’s odd behavior. Most of them had stopped working over their consoles completely and were watching the exchange with rapt attention. As he moved a little closer, Drift shot Ultra Magnus a comm., asking him to come as soon as possible.

“Drift?”

Rodimus’ optics were glassy and his gaze was focused somewhere just over his friend’s shoulder. His mouth hung open and his golden hands dangled uselessly at his sides. When Drift tried to move into his best friend’s line of sight, the prime seemed to look right through him. The prime's fans clicked on audibly and the swordsmech reached to cup his amica’s cheek in his hand. He almost jerked away when he found the other speedster's plating to be boiling hot against his palm.

:Magnus, where are you?:

:Just outside of the bridge. What is-:

Drift missed the rest of the former Enforcer’s comm. as his best friend suddenly clutched a hand to his own chest. His other hand moved to splay across his distended abdomen, the fingers hooking like they were about to claw into the stretched metal plating. An audial-splitting keen began in Rodimus’ vocalizer, abruptly cut off as a weird gurgling noise came from somewhere deep within his chassis. 

The swordsmech froze in horror as fresh energon coated Rodimus’ lips and began to dribble from his mouth. Wide optics begged Drift for help before they flickered out, their brilliant blue fading to lifeless black.

Drift was frozen with horrified shock as he beloved amica crumbled to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the typos! I cleaned it up some. Last night was crazy.


	12. Chapter 12

First Aid hated being interrupted when he was with a patient. Ever since he had completed his training, he took special care to give each mech or femme his full, undivided attention. The medic saw it as a necessary part of doctoring and caring for his patients and he did his best to exercise that belief all the time, even during his hellish tenure at Delphi.

So when he received a comm. ping from the Lost Light, the young medic was less than thrilled. He and Ratchet had just finished reviewing a set of scans taken of Wheeljack’s spark and were watching the youngest of the newborn litter as she kissed her sire’s faceplates. Starscream had ended up birthing three sparklings, something rare and nearly unheard of among grounders. The smallest of them, the newly named femme called Eclipse, had completely stolen Ratchet’s spark. She had proven herself a fighter, coming around even after she had emerged with no sparkspin at all. To see her landing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all over a teary-opticed Wheeljack’s face made the trying ordeal worth it.

Another ping interrupted the happy interaction between sire and sparkling, drawing First Aid’s attention once more. He couldn’t stop himself from sighing as he turned away from the peaceful scene to answer. Leave it to the Lost Light to find trouble inside Cybtertron’s atmosphere. First Aid flipped up the notification on his HUD and saw that it was from Drift. That was unusual. :Drift?:

:GET UP HERE! GET UP HERE!: The swordsmech was screaming over the comm., his voice hoarse. It was obvious that he was crying.

First Aid flinched at the violent sound directly in his audial and without a words, turned and left the room. He could feel Ratchet’s attention following him as he went; he would have to explain later when he knew what was going on. :Drift, what in the Pit-:

:HE’S DYING! HE’S-HE’S- YOU GOTTA DO SOMETHING-:

:Who is dying?:

A ragged sob came over the comm. :Roddy. Oh, Primus, it’s everywhere-:

:Drift what in the fragging Pit is going on?: First Aid sent a ping to Windblade as he entered the hall and another to Ratchet, telling him that there might be an emergency on the ship.

:Energon! He’s coughing it up, it’s comin’ out of his chest seams-:

Windblade appeared at the medic’s side and quickly began to lead him out of Wheeljack and Starscream’s residence. :Is he venting, Drift? Is he responsive?:

A pause came over the comm. as the swordsmech checked. :No! No, no, no-:

:Drift! Listen to me carefully. Get him to the medbay and have Velocity hook him up to a spark machine. What caused this?:

:I don’t know! I was talking to him on the bridge and he started acting weird! Then he just collapsed and his optics went black and there’s energon everywhere-:

:Drift! I know that he is your amica. Right now he needs your help. Where is Ultra Magnus?:

Another pause over the comm., this one accompanied by a series of pants. :Mags is carrying him! We’re almost to the medbay. Primus, you gotta hurry, Aid-:

:I’m getting on the shuttle now. Stay on the comm. with me, Drift.:

First Aid finally looked at Windblade as he stepped onto the transport. The Camien looked understandably confused by the medic’s distressed field, her gaze searching as she was unwilling to ask aloud. First Aid forced his field into the carefully-constructed, mellow monotone that he used to keep his patient’s calm in the medbay. “There is an emergency back on the Lost Light. When Ratchet has finished with Starscream, tell him that I require his assistance immediately. Tell him it’s Rodimus.”

The femme’s optics widened slightly and First Aid knew then that she had heard about the prime carrying a sparkling. “I’ll send him straight up.”

“Thanks.” First Aid gave her a final nod before entering the transport. 

As it began to move, he checked in with Drift. :How are things?:

The speedster’s voice was strained. :We just reached the medbay. He's making some sounds, moaning and gasping. Where are you?:

:Close.:

 

~o0o~

 

Ultra Magnus didn’t remember much after entering the bridge. It had been a mess of tangled, panicked fields and the sound of several voices shouting at top volume. Everyone was moving quickly from their stations in every direction as the bigger mech made his way through them, searching for Drift. The swordsmech had told him that something was wrong with Rodimus-

_Oh, holy Primus. ___

__The former Enforcer may not have remembered much after entering the bridge. But he would never forget the sight of his precious Rodimus lying motionless on the floor._ _

__Energon stained the young prime’s faceplates, coming from his parted lips. Steam hissed from each of his joints and shot into the air in short bursts, dissipating as the cooler air of the bridge met it. By the time the former Enforcer made it through the crowd to his mate’s side, the distinctive red and gold plating had begun to fade._ _

__Ultra Magnus couldn’t hear anything going on around him as he fell to his knees. His hand shook uncontrollably as he reached toward Rodimus’ lifeless body. The sight of magenta flowing freely across his mate’s rapidly graying plating was too much to bear and he didn’t try to hide the anguish in his field. Tears streamed down the former Enforcer’s cheeks as his fingers finally met Rodimus’ plating._ _

__Nearby, Drift was openly sobbing, his vents heavy as he wrapped his arms around his own belly. Every few moments, the swordsmech’s ragged vents would ease as he spoke with someone over comms. Magnus didn’t bother to wonder who he spoke to. He didn’t care about anything beyond the limp mech in front of him._ _

__Gently, the blue mech lifted the prime’s slender chassis into his arms. He cradled his smaller mate against his chest, resting Rodimus’ face against his neck cables to shield him from further harm. Even though he knew that his carrying mate couldn’t hear him anymore, Ultra Magnus couldn’t stop himself from murmuring to the speedster. “Don’t leave me. Please don't leave me, my little love-“_ _

__“We’ve gotta get him to the medbay!”_ _

__The former Enforcer barely looked up at the sound of Drift’s voice. Couldn’t he just give him some space to grieve? They could figure out what happened later. Right now, Magnus just wanted to hold the graying chassis and never let go. He didn’t even care that it was in the middle of the bridge-_ _

__“Everyone, back to your stations! Anyone who isn’t filling a position mandatory to the ship’s immediate needs, you are dismissed. Until further notice, clear this room. Cyclonus, Nightbeat, clear the halls between here and the medbay. Velocity has been notified.” Thunderclash’s voice brooked no argument and several mechs and femmes immediately vacated the bridge. Soon, it was only the few remaining bots to keep the ship functioning._ _

__Though he was grateful to the colorful mech for taking control of the situation, Magnus couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge him. All that mattered was his Rodimus._ _

__“Magnus?! Magnus, we gotta go!”_ _

__Why wouldn’t Drift just leave them in peace? The white speedster reached to try and move Rodimus from his arms, drawing a snarl from Ultra Magnus. Reading the action for what it was, Drift retracted his hand, optics still glinting with tears. “We gotta get him to the medbay, First Aid is coming-“_ _

__“Can’t you see that it’s too late? I should’ve talked him out of it. I should’ve told him 'no,' this wouldn’t have happened-“_ _

__“You can’t give up on him!”_ _

__“You think I’m giving up?!” Ultra Magnus’ voice echoed like thunder throughout the bridge. “Can’t you see that he’s gone, that his plating is going gray? I should’ve told him to terminate… ”_ _

__Drift was shaking his helm slowly, his lower lip trembling. “He’s not gone. He’s not-“_ _

__“Denial helps no one, Drift. Just leave us. Please.”_ _

__But the swordsmech’s optics hardened again and he took Rodimus’ dull yellow hand into his own. Even as Magnus growled a warning, he spoke. “If there was even a little bit of a chance that he could make it, would you take it?”_ _

__“Drift-“_ _

__“Answer! Would you take it if you could save him?”_ _

__“I don’t-“_ _

__“WOULD YOU?”_ _

__“Yes! Yes, slag it! I would do anything for him if it meant he would be alright-“_ _

__“Then get him to the medbay!”_ _

__Ultra Magnus swallowed and felt the prime’s nasal bridge bump into his throat cables. Couldn’t Drift see the gray edges of his armor, the black nothingness that had taken over Rodimus optics? Didn’t the TIC understand that he couldn’t watch this be drawn out and that he couldn’t bare to hold out hope only to have it crushed? The weight of having lost his conjunx was already near to crushing him, drawing an agonized groan from the huge mech. The former Enforcer curled low over his dead mate, his world quickly narrowing to the mech in his embrace. He couldn't go on. Not without the light that was Rodimus. Magnus' chest was too tight as he tried to vent. Even breathing was too hard without his beloved little prime-_ _

__It was so quiet that it was barely noticeable. If his mate hadn’t been pressed so tightly against his throat cables, Ultra Magnus would’ve missed it._ _

__A weak moan of pain._ _

__Just when the former Enforcer had discounted it as the creaking of settling joints, another sounded from the mech in his arms. Ultra Magnus looked down.  
Rodimus’ plating was still gray tinged and pale. His optics were still dark and empty-_ _

__A third moan came from the young prime’s vocalizer, loud enough for Drift to hear it. The white speedster connected optics with Ultra Magnus._ _

__Within a klik, the blue mech was on his peds, Rodimus in his arms. Drift rushed to his side and, in silent agreement, the pair departed from the bridge at a full run, headed for the medbay._ _


	13. Chapter 13

Rodimus had had his chest blown apart during the war. Sometimes he had nightmares of floating in space, his spark jerking violently in his chest as it fought to keep spinning. He’d been starved in Nyon, so severely that his plating had curved inward for lack of nutrition. Somehow through it all, he had endured.

But he’d never experienced pain like this.

Inside his processor, trees formed and told his vocalizer to scream, to loose his agony through sound. But Rodimus couldn’t seem to make anything rather than a quiet moan. His vocalizer was sodden with energon, muting it more effectively than if it had shorted out completely. The prime panicked further when he couldn’t get it to reboot. He couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t cry for help or-

-or tell Magnus how much he loved him.

Rodimus’ optics wouldn’t work either. They refused to come online, leaving him in his dark cage of chaos and pain. He tried to tell whoever was holding him, but was reminded again of his energon-logged vocalizer.

For the love of Primus on high, _make it stop. ___

__Even his audials were barely functioning. He could hear yelling all around him, but no individual words. Again, his distress spiked and he found himself soundlessly screaming for his mate._ _

__He tried conjuring the picture of Ultra Magnus in his helm. But it was becoming harder and harder to create processing trees, nearly impossibly to create individual thoughts. It was peaceful in a way, being slowly deprived of each individual sense all the way down to his basic functions of thought. Rodimus struggled to remember the color of his mate’s plating or the way the mech’s big hands felt during interface._ _

__Rodimus fought against the gathering nothingness, trying to grab onto anything that would keep him from succumbing completely. The vision of blue optics, full of love and silent devotion, faded too quickly for him to grasp, as did the gentle caresses to his spoiler that the prime had come to treasure. He couldn’t remember the sound of the mech’s voice, the one whose optics said that they loved him. Try as he might, even the name of the mech who touched him so gently faded away and left him with nothing but the abyss yawning wide._ _

__What was his conjunx’s name again?_ _

__

__~o0o~_ _

__

__Drift rested his helm in his hands, unable to think straight as silence finally settled over the medbay. First Aid had arrived shortly after they’d rushed Rodimus in, waving both Drift and Magnus out of the private room before closing the door behind them. Sense then, the room had been silent as all the medics fought behind the door to save Rodimus’ life._ _

__Beside Drift, Ultra Magnus stared straight ahead at the far wall, his optics dim and far away. It was impossible to know what the former Enforcer was thinking._ _

__The swordsmech tried to meditate and forced himself to be still. He tried pushing away the sudden fear that had overtaken him when he’d seen his amica fall down. But as he continued working toward achieving some form of peaceful acceptance, he found the sound of Rodimus’ gurgling vocalizer playing on repeat in his audials. He couldn’t shake the sound as the prime’s body had fallen listlessly to thud against the bridge’s floor._ _

__Deadlock had heard many mechs and femmes hit to the ground, never to rise again. Many of their deaths had been his own doing. He had grown used to the sound and had once associated it with a job well done._ _

__He shook himself and gave up trying to balance himself. Rodimus was far more to him than just a friend. The red speedster was his lifelong partner, his amica endura. They were meant to share everything together. They depended on each other when the nightcycles grew too dark and the memories returned with a ferocity so intense that it could only be soothed by the closeness of a friend. Drift and Rodimus had bonded their very souls together and no amount of composure or meditation could help the swordsmech if he lost Rodimus._ _

__Ratchet was everything to him, but even Drift’s conjunx endura couldn’t replace Rodimus. Rodimus had been there first, had saved him more than once when Deadlock rose to drag blade-sharp claws through Drift’s raw processor. The prime had touched his spark first. To live without Rodimus was to not live at all._ _

__“Magnus, Drift.”_ _

__Two helms jerked up from where they’d been bowed. Ratchet, who’d arrived not too long after First Aid did, stood in the doorway to the operating room. His face was more grim than usual and a dot of energon marred his left cheek._ _

__Drift jumped up from where he sat and Ultra Magnus followed. Before either could ask questions, Ratchet held up a single hand to block their way. “Understand that I have done everything that I can. The rest, quite literally, is up to you both.”_ _

__The statement gave Drift pause and he looked at him mate. “What do you mean? What happened to him?”_ _

__Ratchet released a shaky sigh and the swordsmech saw that his hands shook with exhaustion. “The newspark. It dropped far earlier than we expected it to.”_ _

__Behind him, Drift heard the former Enforcer draw and hold a breath. Neither of them wanted to ask the question. Fortunately, Ratchet answered it for them anyway.  
The old medic extended his hand past the swordsmech and offered it to Ultra Magnus. “I’m not saying that he’s out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot. But your newspark has dropped and successfully bonded to its frame in the gestation chamber. From what I can tell right now, you are to be the sire of a mechling.”_ _

__The bigger mech blinked slowly, tired optics still fixed on the medic in front of him. It seemed to take several kliks before the news sank in._ _

__A tentative smile spread across the former Enforcer’s sunken face plates and he took Ratchet’s hand into his own. His vocalizer was heavy with static as he spoke. “How is Rodimus?”_ _

__The old medic cleared his throat. “I won’t lie to you. His spark did rupture during the separation. His spark casing did not shatter, but it did suffer a severe crack. This crack was the reason for the energon that was bleeding between his chest plates and from his mouth. Initially, his body tried to absorb the worst of the heat coming from the separation so that it wouldn’t damage the spark itself. Obviously, it didn’t work.”_ _

__Ratchet shuffled his peds, looking uncertain. In all the time that Ultra Magnus had known the ambulance, he’d never seen the medic hesitate. “There is more, isn’t there?”_ _

__“His spark is too weak to continue spinning on its own. It needs energy-“_ _

__“You know I’m up for it, Ratch,” Drift moved as if he were about to push past the medic and into the room._ _

__But Ratchet stopped him, resting his hand on the other mech’s shoulder. “Let me finish. Bonding with him won’t be easy in his state. His processor was deprived of most sensory input during the separation as his spark drew all of his energy inward in order to survive. It starved him, in a sense. To bring him around, he needs to feel you through the bond, but it will risk draining your spark energy to a temporarily critical level.”_ _

__Drift turned back to the blue mech. Ultra Magnus’ optics were hard and determination filled his field as he nodded once. The swordsmech’s voice was steady when he spoke to Ratchet. “Alright. Let’s do this."_ _


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone for all the comments! I've had a little bit of writer's block with this fic, so thank you all for sticking with me. :)

Rodimus looked so small when Ratchet finally let them into the room. His slender frame was covered in wires and tubes and cords, nearly hidden completely under all of the medical equipment. Seeing his conjunx so vulnerable, Ultra Magnus couldn’t help but remember when Megatron had nearly killed the prime. 

Drift immediately moved to his amica’s berthside and took a golden hand into his own before looking at Ratchet. “Why isn’t he awake?”

“That’s why I’ve called you in. We don’t know.”

The doctor’s serious tone forced Magnus too pause as he sat on the prime’s other side. “What do you mean by that?”

Sighing for likely the thousandth time that cycle, the old medic rested his shoulder against the doorframe. “He’s recovering nicely from the strain of the separation. His spark casing is still fragile and weak, but it is healing quickly due to the healthy amount of bonding that the pair of you have been doing. In all, Rodimus has no reason to still be in recharge. I’ve spoken to Rung…”

Drift kissed the hand in his own before lifting his optics to Rodimus’ slack face. “And?”

“Rung believes that it is a defense mechanism. That he is subconsciously keeping himself in a form of light stasis.”

Now it was Magnus’ turn to be confused. “Why would he keep himself in stasis?”

Ratchet shifted his peds and cleared his throat. “You have to remember the last thing that Rodimus felt and saw. He felt a tremendous amount of pain and it was coupled with energon spilling from both his chest and his mouth. He probably thinks that he lost the newspark.”

Silence fell over the room and Ultra Magnus felt his shoulders slump forward. Keeping himself upright was suddenly a lot harder than it had been moments earlier as Ratchet’s explanation sank in. 

Rodimus thought he’d lost their sparkling. The poor mech was likely deeply traumatized by what he thought had happened and couldn’t bring himself to face the reality of it. Who could blame him?

Ultra Magnus resisted the urge to hide his face in the covers and cry over his mate’s still form. Instead, he looked up at the medic in the doorway. “I must bond with him. He must know that all is not lost.”

As he moved away from the doorframe, Ratchet closed the door behind himself. “Like I said, it won’t be easy. He seems to have locked himself away in his processor to keep himself safe. To him, the sensory deprivation could’ve lasted cycles. You must be careful in drawing him back.”

The pair of seated mechs watched as the old medic moved to a drawer and retrieved a small box. He turned to sit it on the foot of Rodimus’ mediberth, but he didn’t open it. Ratchet was silent for a moment before fixing both Drift and Ultra Magnus with a glare. “I don’t need to tell you how precarious this whole thing is. If there was another way to revive him, I would take it. Drift-“

Already, the white speedster was standing and stepping around the berth toward his conjunx. Ultra Magnus looked away as Drift wordlessly leaned and placed the most gentle of kisses to the medic’s mouth. Ratchet’ optics squeezed closed tightly, like he was trying to push every ounce of his love through the touch of their lips.

Ultra Magnus gazed down at his prime with soft optics. His beautiful Rodimus looked so pale, his plating dull and faded. Though the mess of spilled energon had been cleaned away, the young prime looked overall very sickly. To Magnus, he seemed underweight, like there was nothing more than plating to him now. Everything was so sunken in, from his optics and his cheeks all the way down to his weakened chest plates. The armor just hung off of him and Ultra Magnus couldn’t remember, to his horror, what Rodimus had looked like at full health. He reached and clutched at the tiny hand of his mate.

After much murmuring and several kliks of hugging, Ratchet released the swordsmech from his embrace. Drift stepped away and, giving his conjunx a final comforting smile, resettled in his seat at Rodimus’ side.

Ratchet noticed the former Enforcer’s analysis of the red speedster’s emaciated frame. “The newspark’s separation and bonding to its chassis drained him of his fuel and energy. It is continuing to do so as we speak. In a sense, the sparkling is fine and healthy, but at the cost of its carrier’s body.”

Ratchet cleared his vocalizer before he reached for the box at the foot of the mediberth. “This is a creation of Perceptor’s. It was created to allow one bot to merge with another without having to connect sparks directly. It would mostly be used in occasions where one mech is giving another badly needed spark energy.” He reached into the box; it looked oddly like one of Brainstorm’s dreaded time cases. 

With careful hands, the old medic unspooled two lengths of thick cable that lay coiled inside. Each cable was covered in a non-conductive material and had metal clamps adorned the ends of them both.

At the sight of them, Drift snorted audibly and appeared to be unimpressed. “Jumper cables? Like from Earth? We’re supposed to use these?”

“Though they might look like primitive Earth gadgets, these are actually far ahead of even Cybertronian technology.”

Ultra Magnus reached and plied one of the cables in his fingers. “Why did Perceptor create such a device?”

“He wouldn’t tell me when I asked. Wouldn’t talk about the faux fluid he engineered for heat cycles either. When I asked about them, he got quiet and said he had to go see Brainstorm about something.”

The blue mech hummed in acknowledgement and handed the cable back to Ratchet. The medic continued unwinding the mechanism and handed Ultra Magnus one end of it. “You clamp one end to the lip of your spark casing with the black panel facing inward toward your spark. I will connect the other end to the most stable edge of Rodimus’ healing spark casing.”

“Okay.” 

The blue mech reached and took the clamp in his hand and, without a moment of hesitation, parted his chest plates. Deep within the Magnus armor, Minimus Ambus also parted his chest plates, folding back the layers of metal that hid his load bearing spark from the outside. Usually, sparks were kept private between amicas and conjunxs. But Ultra Magnus didn’t even bother to give the other two mechs present a glance as he carefully attached the clamp to his spark casing.

As his fiery red spark filled the room with moving light, Ratchet triggered the young prime’s chest plates open. Blue light flickered off the walls, slightly more dim and sluggish than usual. Rodimus’ spark was obviously under serious distress as it spun slowly and unevenly, barely flaring as Ratchet’s hand came near with the clamp.

The medic looked over the mech on the berth a last time. “Are you ready?”

Ultra Magnus nodded, his attention never leaving his mate’s colorless face.

Ratchet lowered his hand and connected the cord to Rodimus’ spark.


	15. Chapter 15

As he felt himself thrown into the other mech’s consciousness, Ultra Magnus couldn’t help but let some of his stoic demeanor crumble. Panic set in almost immediately upon feeling himself entering his mate’s seemingly empty helm.

When they merged spark-to-spark, Rodimus always greeted him head on, never one to hang back and wait for Magnus to come to him. But now there was nothing in the rising darkness as the blue mech entered the merge. Though he had no real body while his consciousness was within his conjunx’s spark, he felt a cold wind hit him and drive straight into his core.

When things settled down and the wild rush of leaving his own body had abated, Ultra Magnus could only feel the black void around himself. Rodimus’ presence was faint, so faint that he almost thought that he was imagining it.

“Rodimus?” The blue mech pushed his field out into the space, searching for any sign that his mate was near. “Little one, where have you gone?”

The darkness didn’t answer in word. It shifted a little and a light opened up before Ultra Magnus, flickering and weak. Ultra Magnus reached out to the moving light with his being and called once more. “Rodimus, where are you?”

As he spoke, the light grew larger until he could see that it was a flame. It grew bigger and bigger the longer that Ultra Magnus watched, becoming more volatile as it came closer. Slowly, he was able to see that it wasn’t a single fire at all.

Ultra Magnus watched with horror as a city came into view, the fire surrounding him and consuming him in its heat. Though he had no body in the merge, he could feel the flame licking at his very being, threatening to overtake him completely. The buildings around him burned, half of them completely demolished by something- something-

_Nyon. ___

__Primus, Rodimus was living through the destruction of Nyon in his helm. He was seeing it all over again, locked in his out consciousness while his home and family burned around him._ _

__A sharp cry came from nearby and Magnus turned around._ _

__He recognized the hunched form of his mate immediately. Rodimus was on the ground, his knees splayed apart as he fought to keep himself sitting upright. The young prime’s optics were wide and fever-bright, staring at his hands in front of his face. They were covered in spilled energon up to the elbow._ _

__The former Enforcer made his way over to his conjunx, surprised to find that his frame had manifested itself in the other mech’s processor. “Rodimus!”_ _

__The smaller mech flinched at the sound of his voice before looking up at him. There was nothing but terror reflected in Rodimus’ face and field as he stared up at the other mech. His lips were moving but nothing came out._ _

__“Fancy seeing you here, little prime.”_ _

__The voice made Ultra Magnus stop cold. On the ground, Rodimus released another thin wail and tried to make himself as small as possible against the ground._ _

__“Such a pity. And to think this was all your fault.”_ _

__A shadow appeared at the corner of Ultra Magnus’ vision and he turned toward it, almost imagining the silhouette of a fusion cannon. But when he looked, there was nothing there but fire and the sound of crackling as everything burned. He turned his attention back to his mate. “Listen to me, Rodimus. This isn’t real. This is in your helm-“_ _

__“Is that not where most nightmares reside?”_ _

__This time the voice was right next to his audial. The former Enforcer barely held back a scream of his own as he jerked away from the breath against his helm, the laugh that echoed against the surrounding flames._ _

__“Come to rescue your precious mate, Magnus? I’m afraid he’s quite busy at the moment.”_ _

__Another shadow, this one on his other side. The blue mech snarled and hovered protectively over Rodimus’ cowering form. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real-“_ _

__“Isn’t it? Didn’t it happen?”_ _

__Red optics flickered at the edge of the fire for a split klik before the smoke covered them again. Ultra Magnus felt his mouth go dry and he focused on trying to get his mate to look at him. “Rodimus, look at me, this isn’t real-“_ _

__His chin was abruptly grabbed and he felt himself being jerked upward._ _

__Sharp fangs glinted right in front of his face. Frozen, Magnus found himself unable to move, unable to think of anything beyond the scorched familiar face in front of him._ _

__“Oh, but it is, Enforcer.” Fresh energon dripped steadily from Megatron’s sharp denta, washing down his chin. “This is so very real.”_ _

__

__~o0o~_ _

__

__“He’s coding! He’s coding!”_ _

__Drift watched as the huge form of Ultra Magnus slumped forward on Rodimus’ mediberth and the spark monitor alarm went off. Ratchet was running every which way, trying to find spark cables and calculating how to use them while the blue mech was hooked up to the prime._ _

__He couldn’t get himself to move. He couldn’t make himself think. The swordsmech watched as his conjunx fought to bring back both carrier and sire. Drift couldn’t make himself look away as Magnus’ spark rate dropped even further and the big mech’s vents grew more ragged and further apart. Rodimus lay just as quietly as before._ _

__“You have to let me in there, Ratch-“_ _

__“Don’t be an idiot, Drift, I’m not gonna let you-“_ _

__“We’ll lose them both if I don’t try-“_ _

__Ratchet rounded on him, his optics blazing. “You’re not going and that’s final!”_ _

__“He’s my amica!”_ _

__“And you’re my conjunx!” Ratchet spun to face him and clamped his hands down on the speedster’s shoulders. “You can’t do this! What if what’s happening to Magnus happens to you? Then what would I do, Drift?”_ _

__Drift stared at his mate, unused to emotional outbursts from the medic. Calmly, he lifted a hand to Ratchet’s cheek and dragged his thumb through a tear track.  
Though he sounded angry, it was clear that the medic was scared by the prospect of his mate entering such a dangerous meld. “I love you, Ratchet. You know that. But I also love my amica and I can't leave him to die like this.”_ _

__“But Drift-“_ _

__The swordsmech silenced the medic’s argument with a gentle kiss. He pushed all of the love he’d ever felt for his prickly mate into the meeting of their lips and moved his hands to cradle Ratchet’s helm between them. A soft, uncharacteristic whine came from the other mech and Drift felt another tear wet his fingers._ _

__When he pulled back, it was just enough to whisper against Ratchet’s mouth. “I have to do this, babe. I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?”_ _

__“You better come back. If you don’t, I’ll kill you myself.”_ _

__“Ratchet, do you know what you just-“_ _

__“Shut up.”_ _

__Ratchet pushed off of his mate and refused to meet his optics as he readied the other set of cables. Drift took a seat on the other side of the berth and glanced up at the spark monitor, Ultra Magnus’ spark was spinning unevenly, stuttering each time that it turned. They were quickly running out of time._ _

__The medic handed off one end of the cord and connected the other end to Rodimus’ spark with shaking hands. “I can’t bring you back out if something goes wrong. It could damage both your spark and your processor.”_ _

__“I’ll be right back.”_ _

__“Make sure that you are.”_ _

__Drift allowed his chest plates to part and watched as his mate came closer, the cord in hand. But before Ratchet could attach the clamp to his spark casing, the swordsmech gripped his hand. He didn’t miss how the former CMO’s entire frame was shaking. “Ratchet, I’ll be back.”_ _

__“You said that.”_ _

__“Say you believe me.”_ _

__Ratchet took a steadying vent. “I believe you, Drift.”_ _

__The TIC gave his mate a smile before he leaned back into the chair. As he closed his optics, Drift reached to take ahold of Rodimus’ golden hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze before sending a pulse of love through their amica bond. _"I’m coming, Roddy. Just hang on a little longer." _____


	16. Chapter 16

Fire surrounded them.

Ultra Magnus hunched low over his mate’s slumped form, trying to shield him from Megatron’s wrath. The silver mech was somehow taller than him as he stood over them both, fangs reflecting the blaze that was Nyon’s ruins. Hate glowed fiercely in Megatron’s ruby optics and he roared a laugh. “You thought that he was yours, Magnus?”

“Rodimus, listen to me-“

“You thought that I couldn’t reach him even here?”

Magnus tried to grip his mate’s sagging form so that he could pull him against his chest. But Rodimus continued to stare sightlessly at the ground, his lips moving even though no sound came out. “Come back to me-“

Megatron chuckled darkly, his shadow consuming the two mech’s on the ground. “It’s too late to save your precious prime. He is beyond help and has been for some time.”

That got the blue mech’s attention. Slowly, the former Enforcer turned his helm to look up at the Decepticon leader. Though he was afraid of the answer, he had to know the truth. “What do you mean by that?”

A smile carved through Megatron’s face, his grin too wide to be natural. “I took his spark long ago. During the war, of course, and then again after it ended. He screamed both times.” 

The big mech stepped forward and took Rodimus’ helm finial into his fist before giving it a harsh yank. Rodimus listless gaze connected with Megatron’s and a thin whine came from the prime’s slack mouth. The warlord proceeded to toss Rodimus’ face away and the red speedster fell easily, landing in a heap on Ultra Magnus’ chest. “He had no chance at all when Optimus gave me the captaincy of his ship. I took everything from him: his support, his ship, his crew… and I saved his spark for last.” Megatron slicked his glossa across energon-stained denta. “Anytime I wanted. Over and over until he felt nothing but my presence every moment of his existence.”  
“You’re lying-“

“Am I?”

Ultra Magnus turned his attention down at his mate and saw that the prime was finally looking up at him.

Rodimus’ gaze was full of deep sorrow and suffering. His vocalizer crackled with static as the blue mech traced a fingertip over the dents where Megatron had handled him roughly. “Tried… Tried to tell you… S-sorry.”

Though it felt like his spark would cave in with the horror of Megatron’s revelation, Magnus pushed all the love that he could into his field. “I love you for who you are, Rodimus. What you have endured does not decide how I feel about you. I only wish to help you heal.”

“Used up… worth…less…”

“Not at all, my beloved little prime. You are the most precious, beautiful, irreplaceable thing to me.” Ultra Magnus bent his helm low over the smaller mech and gathered the slender red frame further into his arms. “No matter how many times I must remind you of these things, I shall do it without hesitation. You are my conjunx endura, my one and only for all time. You are the carrier of my sparkling. I love you irrevocably, Rodimus. I will always love you.”

The young prime’s body shook with fatigue and sobs as he buried his face into the bigger mech’s neck cables. “So… tired… Home?”

“You must wake up, sweetspark. Ratchet and Drift are waiting for you-“

“He cannot escape what is in his spark, Magnus.”

Ultra Magnus looked up and snarled defiantly at the silver mech still looming over them. The sound was choked off when his optics landed on Megatron’s face.

The Decepticon leader’s face was split open in a hideously wide grin, rows and rows of dagger-like teeth visible and dripping with energon. His optics were unusually large as he leered down at the mech’s huddled on the ground. Slowly, Megatron extended his clawed hand toward them-

When Rodimus pulled back to look up at the monster above them, Magnus splayed a hand across the back of his conjunx’s helm. “Magnus, what-“

“Don’t look at him. Just hold onto me-“

“He can’t escape. Never.” Megatron’s death head grin widened somehow as his hand extended down to Ultra Magnus’ optic-level. As the talon-tipped fingers opened, a tiny light gradually became visible. “Rodimus won’t ever escape me. And neither will his sparkling.”

When the blue mech finally processed the silver mech’s words and understood what the light in Megatron’s large, sharp hand was, Ultra Magnus did something that he’d never done in his life. He begged, reaching a hand out to the newspark that was just out of his reach.

“Megatron, please. Please, don’t do this-“

The warlord crinkled his fingers, making the tiny newspark dance as it barely avoided being crushed in his massive talons. “Ah, yes, Enforcer. I do enjoy hearing you beg.”

Rodimus squirmed again, this time with panic entering his field. “Mags, what is he doing-“

“Megatron, I am begging you-“

“STOP!”

Megatron’s closing fingers halted their movement and Magnus felt the prime in his arms freeze. They’d all had heard that voice before, but not for thousands of years.

It was gravelly and harsh, rolling from it’s owner’s vocalizer in a low growl. For many Autobots, it had been the last voice they’d ever heard. For still more, it had been the voice that many survivor’s ran from in their nightmares.

Keeping Rodimus’ face pressed firmly against his chest, Ultra Magnus turned around.

The newcomer stepped from the flames, emerging like he was born from the furious blaze around them. He had worn the remains of a thousand brave mechs and femmes; many of them had never known what hit them. Red optics flashed, studying each of the mechs as he stepped further into the clearing. 

_Deadlock. ___


	17. Chapter 17

Ultra Magnus felt his mate wiggle against his chest, his voice small. “Drift?”

“Shh, Rodimus. Stay still.” Even with his size, the former Enforcer knew that he couldn’t fight off two Decepticons. Magnus glared over the young prime’s helm defiantly and squeezed the smaller mech even more tightly against his chest. “You will have to go through me-“

But Deadlock paid him no mind; his considering glare never left the silver warlord. “Megatron.”

“Deadlock. A pleasure to see you.” The silver warlord’s stiff posture relaxed as the white mech bowed at the waist. The former Decepticon leader considered for a moment before releasing the newspark from his grips. Ultra Magnus watched as it floated toward himself and Rodimus. 

The former Enforcer allowed Rodimus to sit up a little as the tiny ball of energy approached them. “Keep you optics on me and open your chestplates.”

“Magnus, what’s-“

“Trust me.”

His gaze never leaving his mate, the prime triggered his armor apart and allowed the fluttering ball of light to slip inside. The second that it disappeared into his chest, Rodimus’ tensed, his optics flaring white, before he collapsed back down onto Ultra Magnus’ chest. A quick check told the former Enforcer that his mate had passed out.

Megatron was still watching the white swordsmech approach, his optics calculating. “What brings you here, my loyal soldier?”

“I have come to deliver my report.”

“Oh? And what have you to report?”

All the while he’d been talking, Deadlock had come closer to the ex-warlord, his peds silent on the debris-strewn ground. “I have come to report a deactivation, sir.”

“And who has fallen to your sword now, favorite of mine?”

“You, sir.”

Deadlock’s sword was in his hand and swiping toward the silver mech’s neck within the span of a half-klik. But Megatron had seen the move coming. Effortlessly, Megatron lifted his hand and allowed the blade to sink into his forearm. Though it bled profusely, he still had his helm. “You have betrayed me before. You shan’t succeed again.”

The white mech swung his left fist when he found his sword lodged too firmly in his foe’s arm to be removed. Again, Megatron anticipated his punch and caught Deadlock’s left fist, twisting it until the elbow joint cracked and broke. The swordsmech screeched in pain, his long fangs flashing as he found himself pulled face-to-face with the Decepticon leader. “You forget that I am your master, both here and in the berth. You forget your place and therefore yourself, Deadlock.”

“You also forget, Megatron.” Deadlock released his hold on the sword still buried in the silver mech’s arm and dropped his right hand down to his side. “I am not Drift.”

Ultra Magnus watched the confusion cloud the warlord’s optics before realization set in. 

Megatron tried to push the former assassin away from himself, but it was too late. Deadlock lifted his hand back from his hidden right side and pressed the gun’s muzzle to Megatron’s helm.

The former Enforcer looked away as the weapon went off, followed by an angry screech. He buried his face against his unconscious conjunx’s helm as a body thudded to the ground and another shadow fell over them. Magnus kept his optics closed as he whispered just loud enough for the mech standing over them to hear. “Let him go. Do what you will with me. Just let Rodimus go-“

“Magnus.”

It wasn’t Deadlock’s voice that said his name. Ultra Magnus lifted his face from Rodimus’ helm.

Drift gazed down at him, optics clear blue and face tight. Energon was splashed across the right side of his helm. It was not his own. Ultra magnus stared at the white speedster as Drift knelt down on Rodimus other side. “He’s free, Magnus. Rodimus is free of him for good.”

“You’re certain?”

Ultra Magnus watched the other mech nod slowly and noticed that Drift had begun to slump forward to rest on all fours. “Yes. I’m sure.” The swordsmech blinked slowly at him, a soft smile curving his mouth. “We both are. Finally. Forever.”

Only then did the big mech see the breach in the other mech’s chest. Like a fist-full of knives had gone straight in, twisted and pulled out again. 

Unwilling to release Rodimus fully, Ultra Magnus reached out and rested his hand on Drift’s shoulder. “The newspark is saved because of you. Rodimus’ child is safe.”

Drift coughed and energon painted his mouth. “No. Deadlock saved us all.” The bleeding mech crawled forward and pressed against his amica’s back. “Once Ratch gets him to wake up out there, this merge will end.”

“I hope that he does so soon.” Ultra Magnus moved to encircle Drift in his arms as well, doing his best to spare both of the smaller mechs from the inferno around them. Though it had abated greatly, the flames still licked at his plating. “You must stay awake until then.”

Drift took a few labored breathes before he was able to answer. “Well, if I can’t-“

“You cannot leave Rodimus. If he wakes up without you…”

“Then you’ll just have to name that sparkling after me, huh?”

“Drift.”

“Not funny? My bad.” Another wet cough caused more energon to leak from his mouth. “I feel so… so happy. He’s finally gone.” Ultra Magnus felt the swordsmech relax further against his plating, a happy smile on his peaceful face. “If I gotta go, at least I got to feel this way again. Listen, Mags,” the injured speedster lifted himself just enough to meet Magnus’ optics, “you gotta tell Ratch, okay? Tell him that I-“

Everything went pitch black and silence stole away Drift’s words. 

The former Enforcer felt both speedsters torn from his arms and the fire around him blew out with a sudden hiss. He distantly felt himself spinning out of control, falling and screaming and begging for Rodimus to come back from wherever he’d been taken to. He felt nothing and everything, darkness robbing him of his senses and immersing him fully in them at the same time. All he knew what that he was falling and he somehow gathered himself enough to brace for the inevitable impact-

Ultra Magnus woke up.


	18. Chapter 18

Ratchet watched the three spark monitors as they plummeted. There was nothing that he could do as he himself wasn’t bonded to Rodimus. Therefore, he couldn’t interrupt the merge. 

The medic couldn’t look away from Drift’s monitor as it spun quickly for several kliks before dropping and growing irregular. Slumped against the berth that Rodimus lay on, Drift’s body showed no indication of what was happening in the merge. From what Ratchet could see, his conjunx hadn’t physically reacted at all rather than maybe smiling the slightest bit.

He looked up again as one of the monitors sounded the critical alarm. “No. No, no, please-“

Drift’s sparkrate was tanking, skipping weakly along. A soft sigh left the swordmech’s slack vents and his frame relaxed even further against the berth. 

Tears began to fill the usually grumpy medic’s optics when he saw how serene and at peace his dying mate looked. Ratchet couldn’t stop himself from moving forward and bending over his beloved, trying to wake him with a shoulder shake. “Don’t slagging do this to me. Do you hear me? Don’t you dare leave me, Drift-“

When Ultra Magnus stirred on Rodimus’ other side, the medic couldn’t bring himself to move away from his mate. He kissed lovingly at the rapidly cooling helm and petted Drift’s spinal strut with his fingertips. He hadn’t thought that this was where he’d be this morning. He hadn’t thought that he’d be losing his conjunx endura.

 

~o0o 

 

Drift felt light, like he was floating on Earth-clouds. He’d used to wonder what it would be like to ride those white puffy things. He giggled at the feeling and he kicked his peds playfully in the open air, feeling unburdened for the first time in millions of years. Ratchet would’ve rolled his optics in exasperation.

Ratchet.

The novelty of feeling weightless vanished then as panic set in and Drift began to remember. Nyon burning, Rodimus’ newspark, dying. Magnus begging for mercy. Megatron refusing. Deadlock-

Oh, Primus. 

The swordsmech began to fight against the bright nothingness that surrounded him. Where were they now? What had Deadlock done to them? Oh no. What if he’d- could he have-

Drift opened his mouth to scream, but there was no sound to be made where he was. Only painfully bright nothingness surrounded him where he hung in space. He knew that he was commanding his arms and peds to flail and kick, but he couldn’t move at all, at least not how he wanted to. There was no right or left, no up or down.

Ratchet.

Even as everything around him began to fade to dismal grays and it became harder to think clearly, Drift could still remember his mate. He could still feel the touch of their plating, could still taste every kiss that they’d shared together. In his processor, Ratchet’s rare laugh could still be heard, something that he only shared with Drift in private. The swordsmech began to struggle even harder against the encroaching darkness as each memory faded away, leaving glowing red optics and sharp denta in their wake.

Then, he was there. 

Deadlock’s face wavered in front of his vision, a perfect mirror image of Drift’s own. He was the only thing that Drift could see as his surroundings deepened further into black. Drift wanted to hide from his former self, to rail his hate at the monster that he’d been before. He’d tried so hard to be rid of Deadlock, tried so hard to escape the nightmare that he’d been-

Deadlock’s body began to tremble, his nasty grin collapsing into a silent scream of fear. It was a face that the assassin had never made before, an emotion that he’d never felt. Drift wanted to move, to turn around and see what was behind him. Whatever scared Deadlock was sure to be truly-

Drift saw the hole in the other mech’s chest.

He watched as his former self writhed in front of him, red optics glassy as the hole began to glow-

Sound came back-

Deadlock’s wail was hoarse and choked, his vocalizer likely flooding with energon as the gaping wound just over his spark chamber began to ooze magenta. Drift couldn’t look away from the scene, listening as the monster’s vocalizer drowned and the glow coming from his chest became too bright to look at directly.

The swordsmech returned his gaze to Deadlock’s twisted, crying face. He sensed that he could move and knew somehow to reach out his hand toward the spasming mech. As he did, the light coming from the assassin’s chest took on a shape, coming forward through the gap in Deadlock’s energon-smeared armor.

His spark.

Drift took the ball of energy into his palm, feeling the weight of the other mech’s core. The assassin was staring at him, mouth slack and optics wide, his vocalizer clicking uselessly. Closing his fingers slightly, Drift watched Deadlock’s gaze flicker down at the spark cradled in his hand, a plea for mercy blatant in his field.

But Deadlock had shown no mercy to the Autobots. Why should Drift grant him mercy now?

He gazed down at the swirling ball of light and watched the tendrils reach toward his face, like they too asked silently for compassion. “Why? Why would I let you go?” Deadlock didn’t answer, couldn’t answer as energon slid soundlessly from his lips. 

Drift wanted to cry, to scream and tear things apart. He’d carried around Deadlock with him for so long, always reminded of who he’d been and what he’d done. The spark in his hand had been deeply tormented, had been raped by Megatron repeatedly and without mercy. Why shouldn’t he crush it, free himself of the monster who tortured and killed for fun? This spark had once belonged to a guttermech, a broken bot who’d sold himself to anyone who’d take him for fuel and drugs. Primus, he’d even sold this spark to Megatron-

Mercy. Decepticons showed no mercy.

Drift screamed in Deadlock’s face, the damaged spark in his hand. “WHY SHOULDN’T I?! YOU’VE RUINED ME! RUINED ME!”

He couldn’t even bond with Ratchet without feeling the vile presence of the mech before him. Whenever they merged, Drift’s poor mate was greeted by the specter of Deadlock. Every time they merged, Drift could feel Ratchet’s poorly hidden fear, his inability to relax in his conjunx’s presence-

Decepticons showed no mercy.

Drift released the spark from his fingers and hid his face in his hands. He couldn’t control his sobs as the light wondered away from him, back to its owner. He couldn’t kill Deadlock. Even when given the chance to save himself and Ratchet from the demon within, he’d given away his chance.

Drift wasn’t a murderer. Sure, he’d killed for the Autobots during the war, but this was different. He couldn’t kill a part of who he was and he couldn’t kill Deadlock even if he’d wanted to. He wasn’t a Decpeticon. He wasn’t Deadlock anymore-

“Thank you.”

The low timbre was still in that voice and Drift looked up to meet the other mech’s gaze. But it wasn’t Deadlock who stood before him.

It was Drift. Younger. Brighter. Beautiful and soft. He barely remembered this version of himself, destroyed so long ago before the gutters had taken everything innocent from him. His optics were the gold that he’d come online with and his frame was even more slender than he was now.

He watched this original-Drift reach toward him and he didn’t flinch as the other mech’s hand touched his helm. The sight of himself so much younger and healthy forced his vocalizer to reboot before he could speak. “You… I’m…”

The yellow-opticed version of himself came closer and placed his other hand on Drift’s helm, holding the swordsmech’s face loosely. “You have chosen forgiveness. Just like I would have so long ago.”

Drift didn’t know what to say as he stared at himself, so brilliant and full of hope. He didn’t try to hide the tears when he finally got his vocalizer up and running. “But… are they… gone?”

“Megatron and Deadlock are gone.”

“Like… forever?”

The younger Drift smiled and, Primus, he was gorgeous when he smiled. His denta were straight and didn’t have the sharp fangs that Drift tried to conceal daily these days. “In your spark, yes. But I’m afraid that physically and mentally, you cannot forget.” 

A gentle fingertip landed over the swordsmech’s mouth when he tried to speak. “Your conjunx is waiting for you.”

And without further explanation, Drift woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i just wanted to pause here and thank everyone reading for their support. This series is far from over! Don't worry. Just wanted to stop and say thank you for all the support :)


	19. Chapter 19

Rodimus was in someone’s arms, his body being rocked gently. Someone’s chest was against his cheek, warm and familiar and strong. He took a deep vent and felt the mech who was rocking him stop. “Rodimus?”

The young prime crinkled his nasal bridge. He wanted to be rocked. Not quite able to get his mouth working, he mumbled against whoever’s plating he was pressed against. “Rodimus, can you hear me?”

“Ruuhhmmmmeeeee.”

“What?”

“Ruhme!”

“Rodimus, are you-“

“Rock. Me!”

Instead of honoring Rodimus request, whoever was holding him began crying quietly against his helm. The chest under the red mech’s face heaved as whoever held him gasped heavily, trying to steady himself. “Oh, thank Primus. Thank you.”

A field he would recognize anywhere wrapped around Rodimus, filled with love and relief. Instinctively, the young prime nuzzled the plating under his helm before turning to kiss it lazily. “What are we thanking him for?”

Above him, the blue mech didn’t answer and instead began pressing kisses everywhere along Rodimus’ helm. The prime giggled before he tilted his face up and caught his mate’s mouth in a kiss of his own.

Instantly, Ultra Magnus lifted the smaller mech up and closer, cradling the speedster in his arms as he kissed him with bruising force. Despite the pressure it put on his neck, Rodimus didn’t care. He pushed up into the kiss for a klik or two more before a noise in another part of the room drew his attention.

Blinking at the room’s brightness, Rodimus looked over an empty, energon-stained berth to see Ratchet and Drift on the other side. The old medic had Drift’s face between his hands, tears streaking freely down his face. He kept running his hands over his mate’s helm, like he couldn’t believe that Drift sat on his lap, alive and well. As the red mech watched, Ratchet whispered softly to his mate, optics wide. “You don’t ever do that to me again, do you understand me? I don’t know what-“

“He’s gone, babe.” Drift was grinning, tears streaming down his own cheeks and he rested his forehelm on Ratchet’s. “He’s gone. He’s gone forever. They both are.”

“They…? He is?”

The swordsmech nodded, laughing as he smiled cried, and Ratchet pulled him down into a kiss that was long and hard and deep. The scene was so touching that Rodimus felt something in his chest tighten even though he had no idea what they were talking about.

A gentle hand took hold of Rodimus’ chin and he allowed his gaze to be guided back to Ultra Magnus. The big mech’s face was smeared with tears, his optics bright and squinted at the edges. Suddenly concerned, the young prime reached up to brush away some of the mess. “Mags? You okay?”

“I am now, my little prime. I… I thought we had lost you.”

As he was pulled into Magnus’ neck cables, things slowly began to come back to him. He remembered falling on the bridge and feeling the worst pain that he’d ever felt in his life. Then, he’d been trapped with Megatron, forced to watch his home burn all over again. 

But Magnus had come and had protected him from the silver mech. He could’ve sworn that Drift was there too, but he’d sounded weird. Almost like-

“Oh Primus.”

“Rodimus?”

The speedster pulled back and looked up at his mate, his field suddenly nervous. “Was… was Deadlock in the merge?”

The look on Ultra Magnus’ face told him the answer. Rodimus struggled to sit up and get off of his mate’s lap. He had to talk to Drift, had to make sure that he was okay. Drift had confided in him that Deadlock showed up every time he merged with Ratchet, causing no small amount of stress between the conjunxs. For the assassin to show up in a merge with Rodimus too… Drift had to be upset.

“Uh, uh, uh! Sit down or I strap you down!”

As Ratchet appeared at his side and helped Rodimus relax against the blue mech once more, the captain noticed all of the wires and cords that were attached to his body. They seemed to run everywhere, connected to his medical ports, his spark casing, his rounded belly- oh no.

He turned to Ratchet, terror clear in his field. “The sparkling. Oh Primus, Ratchet, tell me I didn’t lose the sparkling-“

“No, no. The sparkling is fine.”

A thousand questions formed in Rodimus’ processor, all of them vying for dominance as he tried to calm himself. “It is? What happened? I remember falling and… Drift are you okay? Deadlock was there, in our merge, I heard him. And Megatron-“ The prime turned, horrified, and cast his gaze up to Ultra Magnus. Oh no. 

His mate had to know what had happened to him, what Megatron had forced him to do. He had to know how pathetic he was now. Rodimus had always told the former Enforcer that he was used up. There was no doubt that Ultra Magnus knew now just how disgusting he was now-

“Mags, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to say, I-“

“Calm down, my prime. All is well now.”

“But, Mags, he-“

A soft hand came to touch Rodimus shoulder and he looked back to see Drift smiling down at him. The swordsmech still had tears in his optics as he kissed Rodimus’ excitedly. “He’s gone, sweetspark. He’s gone forever.”

Still panicking over what Magnus must think of him, the prime barely felt his friend’s elated field washing over him. “What? Who’s gone, Drift?”

“Megatron. And Deadlock. They’re both gone.”

Gone? How was that possible? Rodimus swallowed, regarding his amica skeptically. “How? He- He bonded with me- made me merge with him- listen, Magnus, I didn’t want to, please forgive me-“

“There is nothing to forgive, my love. I love you regardless of what you have endured.”

Not quite certain and more than a little overwhelmed, Rodimus turned back to Drift. “How are they gone?”

Quickly and with no small amount of happy tears, Drift related to the other speedster what had occurred before he woke from the merge. He told them that Megatron and Deadlock were gone, that they had been erased from his spark and that Megatron could no longer haunt Rodimus’ either. Their sparks were free, the old scars cleaned through Deadlock’s killing of Megatron in the merge.

By the end of his amica’s explanation, Rodimus’ face glowed with tears of his own and he looked back at Ultra Magnus.

The blue mech pulled the speedster tight against himself and kissed him insistently, pushing all of the happiness that he felt into it as he did. The young prime came willingly, his vents gasping as he was overtaken by the light feeling of his unburdened spark. 

Ultra Magnus allowed his hand to rest on his mate’s distended torso as he kissed him. The tiny life they’d created lay just under the stretched plating, strong and healthy. Already, he could feel the newly bonded frame moving around as the newspark acclimated to its new body. 

A mechling. Ratchet had said they were to have a mechling! Just the thought that he would be having a son nearly drew tears of excitement and happiness into Ultra Magnus’ optics.

Rodimus pulled back slightly and moved to flick his glossa against the blue mech’s audial. “I hope you’re ready for me to get out of here. When I do…” Another wet kiss to his audial left the SIC shivering in his plating. “…I want your spike in me. If you’re not on the bridge, you’re in my valve. Sound good?”

_Primus _. By the time the red mech finally pulled away, Ultra Magnus was half-pressurized beneath his modesty panel. He was more than happy to agree to those terms.__


	20. Chapter 20

Ratchet decided to keep the recovering prime for two more cycles, refusing to let him out of the room. Even as Rodimus complained vehemently, he eventually gave up upon finding that the argument was three to one.

Drift took the bridge as soon as Ratchet had finished a thorough spark test, practically skipping in his excitement as he left the medbay. The swordsmech’s optics were bright and his smile was stunning as he swung his hips in a confident saunter. Rodimus couldn’t help but smirk when he caught Ratchet staring after the white speedster, his optics trained on Drift’s aft as he went. A sharp word and some severe blushing had the old medic slamming his office door shut as the young prime laughed.

His chest felt tight inside as he tried to keep from fidgeting on the medberth now. The spark casing had been carefully cleaned and bandaged following the dangerous merge that he, Magnus and Drift had shared. Though Ratchet had said that he would recover fully within the next two cycles and that the welds First Aid made would smooth over on their own, Rodimus was antsy to get back to his and Magnus’ shared hab. He wanted to go home.

“Mims, why can’t we just chill at the hab? Cuddle on the couch… watch the televid… suck your spike…”

The red speedster glanced at his conjunx out the side of his optic. To his disappointment, the former Enforcer was glaring at him, his ruby optics peering over the top of a datapad that he’d been working on. “You know that Ratchet wants to keep you here. I also want to ensure that you are well before returning to more… strenuous activities.”

Rodimus flopped back on the mediberth and saw Minimus cringe at his clumsy action. Primus, he hated being babied. He wasn’t fragile!

Just as another complaint was forming in the captain’s vocalizer, Minimus sighed and sat down the datapad on the side table. “You know that it is for the best. For both you and our sparkling.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I just wanna be in our berth, with our blankets.”

Rodimus watched as the smaller mech proceeded to jump up onto the mediberth and crawl up to lay at his side. A serious little face peered down at him, considering before the green mech finally spoke. “I’m afraid that we can’t have our berth at the moment. Will cuddling suffice for now?”

Wordlessly, the young prime stretched his arms wide, expecting his mate to nestle against his chest like he usually did. Instead, Minimus shimmied down his frame to straddle Rodimus’ legs. He didn’t understand what the green mech was doing until Minimus leaned forward.

With all the gentleness due to a priceless treasure, the former Enforcer pressed a soft kiss to Rodimus’ rounded belly. As the red mech watched, Minimus sprinkled his mate’s torso with feather-light caresses, his lips barely brushing along before pressing firmly and with purpose. After counting fifteen at least, the carrying mech allowed his helm to fall back against the pillow as the sire of their sparkling continued worshipping him with whispered praises and kisses.

When a pause came in the kisses, Rodimus roused slowly from his doze. He felt light-helmed under Minimus’ dedicated attention, just like he always did when his conjunx doted on him. “Mims? Whatcha doin’?”

No answer came and the young prime sat up a little on his elbows. “Mims?”

The green mech was staring down at his mate’s swollen abdomen, his optics alight with adoration. His voice was reverent as he spoke. “I promise that you will be safe. You will be safe and you will be loved. Forever and always.”

Minimus kissed the red plating again before drawing back once more. “You are the most precious, adored thing to me, my little son. You and your carrier. The lights of my existence.”

Rodimus felt his optics burning and he blinked quickly. 

He’d suffered so much in his lifecycle. He’d starved in the gutters, lost his family, his city. He’d had his spark blown from his chest only to be abused and tortured by the same monster who’d done it. Rodimus Prime had been no one once, a mech who no one would miss if he disappeared. 

But now here he was, laying on a medberth with his mate, his beloved, ever faithful conjunx, as the other mech lavished him with affection. He was to be a creator of another life soon and they celebrated the sparkling that their love had created.

“I love you, Mims. So much.”

The smaller mech lifted his optics from the gravid belly of his mate and met Rodimus’ affectionate gaze. “I love you too, Rodimus Prime. More than my own life, a thousand times over.”

The sentiment made the young prime’s spark spin and he reached for his mate. Minimus came willingly, light enough to settle with his hips on the berth and their chests pressed together as Rodimus lay back. When they finally settled, their nasal bridged brushed against each other while their optics dimmed.

And Minimus kissed him, his hand coming up to cup the speedster’s face as their lips met. He kept their joining smooth and leisurely, taking his time and driving Rodimus mad in all the right ways. “So perfect, so beautiful to me…” Even as he murmured such sweet things, it was only against his mate’s mouth, never once breaking their achingly slow pace.

As a thumb stroked his cheek, Rodimus couldn’t hold back a low moan in his throat. He pushed back into the kiss as he tried to coax the green mech’s glossa out to play, but Minimus refused to cooperate. The former Enforcer pressed the speedster down more firmly into the mediberth, claiming dominance over the carrying mech as he did. Loving it, Rodimus released another wanton moan into the siring mate’s mouth.

He really couldn’t wait to get out of here. Rodimus knew that part of his longing for Minimus was a direct result of his carrying hormones. But he didn’t care. He wanted interface and, Primus, he wanted it _now. _“Please, Mims, just a quickie-“__

__The green mech pulled back and away, drawing a whine from Rodimus as he did. “I want to, Rodimus. I truly do. But we must be certain that you and the sparkling are fully recovered. I won’t risk you or our child for a single release.”_ _

__Even though he wanted to pout, the young prime knew that his mate was right. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”_ _

__“Oh I assure you, my prime. The wait will be worth it. Trust me.” The smaller mech’s optics dimmed even further, close to a deep burgundy. “I will make the sweetest love to you in our berth…” Minimus moved closer until he could speak directly into he prime’s audial. “I will fill you with my transfluid, love, until your tank can hold no more. I’ll breed you until you can’t support your own weight and the sparkling within your tank will have more nutrients than it will ever need. What do you think of that, my prime?”_ _

__Really, Rodimus and his slick valve thought that that sounded absolutely outstanding._ _


	21. Chapter 21

When the medics finally released Rodimus from their care, the pair of conjunxs barely made it back to their hab. All the way there, Rodimus’ field pulsed with arousal. Every time Minimus looked over at his mate, the prime’s optics betrayed to him the lust that the carrier was feeling. 

By the time the door to their hab closed behind them, the former Enforcer’s spike was pushing painfully against the inside of his modesty panel. He groaned when he finally retracted the cover and his member was allowed to pressurize into the open air.

Rodimus swiped his glossa over his lips as he eyed his mate’s bobbing spike. “Primus, I just wanna suck you dry.”

“I have a better idea.”

Minimus knew that his field was wild with desperate desire as he caught sight of his mate’s sparkling-heavy torso. Rodimus had never looked so gorgeous, so stunningly beautiful. Here and now, standing in front of him, with his valve bared and his field alight with excitement... The green mech had never wanted anything more in his entire lifecycle.

Rodimus flashed his a strut-weakening smile as he turned toward their shared berthroom. As he went, the prime sent a coy wink over his shoulder, wiggling his hips and pitching them back. His aft, pert and begging to be smacked, swung side to side and effectively allowed Minimus brief glimpses of the valve he’d soon be sheathed in. “Well?” The red mech pranced forward a few more steps before stopping in the doorway to look back. “You gonna show me your idea or not?”

Feeling as if he were stuck in slow motion, Minimus followed after his mate as the prime moved on into the berthroom. 

When the former Enforcer made it to the door leading into their berthroom, he paused again to enjoy the show. Rodimus sauntered toward the berth, his speedster frame moving with liquid grace as he slowly approached their berth. With a last coquettish glance back at his mate, the handsome prime placed his hands on the covers and slowly slid forward, keeping optic-contact with the mech in the doorway.

Minimus watched as his conjunx’s chest finally met the berth covers, effectively keeping the prime’s aft raised and his soaked valve presented. A wicked glint had entered Rodimus’ optics as he smirked at his lover. “You just gonna watch, Mims? Or come over here and take what’s yours?”

As he stalked forward, the green mech wondered if Rodimus would be the end of him one day. “Oh, I intend to take what is mine. But first-“

Without warning, the smaller mech came up behind his mate and dropped abruptly to his knees. Before Rodimus could react, Minimus pressed his face up into the other mech’s entrance, sweeping his tongue around the valve lips before plunging deep without hesitation. The prime cried out at the sudden intrusion and his legs shook as the former Enforcer continued his ministrations.

Minimus pushed his mouth up into the carrying mech’s wet heat, making fervent love to his prime’s sex. He would never grow tired of his mate’s delicious taste, of the sweet whines and moans that broke from Rodimus’ straining vocalizer as pleasure consumed him. It bordered on holy the way the young prime arced his back, pushing his anterior node against Minimus’ chin as his body gave little jerks and his completion neared.

“Oh- oh, Mims, don’t- don’t stop- oh”

The former Enforcer wouldn’t have dreamed of stopping as he continued lapping up his mate’s juices, gathering them on his glossa before swallowing them down hungrily. There was nothing like it. When Rodimus’ legs began to give out, Minimus pushed him up on the berth until the prime’s knees rested on the edge and Minimus stood upright behind him. 

“I’m gonna- oh! Oh, Primus! Mims, I’m gonna- gonna come-“

When he felt the valve he was devouring tighten around his glossa, the green mech sealed his lips around Rodimus sloppy entrance and sucked on his swollen anterior node. Wailing into the covers of the berth, the young prime came hard. Lubricant flooded Minimus’ waiting mouth and he licked it away happily, cleaning the speedster’s loosened entrance as the final spasms of Rodimus’ overload trailed away.

Minimus peppered the red mech’s elevated aft with soft kisses as the carrying mech panted softly through his mouth. When the former Enforcer pulled back to admire his work, Rodimus released a disapproving whine. “Spike me. Please, spike me, please…”

“I’m far from finished with you, my love.”

Nudging his mate further up onto the berth, Minimus moved to kneel behind him. He delivered another kiss to one of Rodimus’ spoiler hinges and watched as the appendage jerked upward at the sensation. As he continued to lick and kiss at the sensor-packed metal, the green mech eased his member into the prime’s soaked valve.

Rodimus tensed for a moment before allowing himself to go strutless on the berth, his aft still up in the air as his spinal strut arched in a deep curve. “Frag me, Mims, frag me, fill me with your transfluid-“

Minimus took a few kliks to admire the way his spike looked buried to the hilt in his mate’s snug valve. He leaned over Rodimus’ back and reached around the other mech’s middle until he could feel the distended belly of his prime. For some reason, likely due to the pheromones that Rodimus was projecting at him, the fact that his mate was so far along in the carrying process only served to push his arousal higher. Inside the speedster’s valve, Minimus felt his spike twitch and he groaned as his mate’s valve walls clenched down in reaction.

“Oh, Rodimus- Mmmm-“ 

Pulling his hips back slightly, the sire-to-be snapped forward and felt his interface panel knock against the other mech’s. Rodimus yelped before releasing a rambling string of begging, pleading words, all of them trying to persuade Minimus to hurry it up and frag him. “Need you- hard- Mims, please-“

And Minimus let go. He slowly built up a pace, careful to listen for any sounds that would indicate that his partner was in pain. Though Rodimus had once asked for a rougher hand in the berth, Minimus hadn’t been able to do it. He got no joy out of injuring his prime or of even acting like he was going to. The green mech had seen Rodimus near death enough to know that he could never bring his mate any kind of pain, even if Rodimus wanted it in the berth.

“Oh, come on, Mims- frag me- frag me harder- oh yes-“

The smaller mech bucked his hips into Rodimus, his mouth open as he panted with the strain. His most primal instincts had begun to take hold as the carrying mech beneath him bombarded him with both his field and his scent. Everything told Minimus to breed with the speedster, to do whatever it took to ensure the survival of his offspring. Pressing his chest against Rodimus’ back, he moved both hands to splay across the prime’s heavy abdomen and let him have it.

The red mech had finished at least two more times before Minimus’ felt his transfluid chamber tighten at last. Hilting himself until his spike head pierced Rodimus’ gestation chamber wall, the former Enforcer felt his body jerk convulsively as he spilt into his mate’s forge in a series of thick spurts. When the pressure in his groin had finally begun to ease and his HUD lit with warns that he would soon overheat, Minimus pulled out and collapsed onto his side with a sigh.

Pushing his face into the blankets, the green mech wanted nothing more than to fall into an instant recharge. Interfacing during Rodimus’ carrying cycle had been exceedingly draining each time. It was almost like his body was pushed too hard by his need to provide for his growing sparkling. Despite the heaviness that had overtaken his processor and limbs, Minimus lifted himself in order to check on his mate. “Rodimus?”

“Hm?”

“Have I- have I injured you?”

A soft laughed answered him and the red mech rolled over so that he could face the mech looking down at him. “No. That- That was the best. The best one yet, for sure.”

Relieved, Minimus moved to push a clumsy kiss to his mate’s smile. Rodimus returned it, equally lazy with exhaustion. It was likely that his forge was already hard at work putting the transfluid nanites to good use. The process, according to First Aid, was draining for the carrier and required undisturbed recharge after interfacing. Fortunately, Minimus was more than happy to recharge himself after donating said transfluid.

When the green mech moved to begin cleaning up the mess they’d made, Rodimus stopped him. Wordlessly and with a begging field, the prime guided the minimally resistant Minimus back down onto the berth, wrapping his arms around the smaller mech. Taking the hint and accepting that he wasn’t going to escape anytime soon, the former Enforcer cuddled up against his conjunx. “I love you, Rodimus.”

“Love you too, Mims. So much.”


	22. Chapter 22

Rodimus had begun to stay in berth more often as the cycles went by, his belly ballooning out further as the time for the emergence neared. He had finally reached the point in the process where Ratchet officially excused him from bridge duty. Though he’d been initially happy to be free of endless report writing, the young prime had quickly become bored with the arrangement. Being increasingly immobile and sore had only served to further agitate the speedster, especially when he’d been forced to bedrest by his hovering conjunx.

“You know that it is for your own good, Rodimus.”

The red mech sighed heavily and fought to sit up. In the end, Magnus slid an arm behind his carrying mate and helped Rodimus move further up onto the pillows. “I know, I know! But I feel so useless just sitting around doing nothing. I mean, I don’t even have any reports to write for you to fix!”

Ultra Magnus gave his mate a soft smile before reaching toward the berthside table and passed him a cube of energon. “Indeed. But now I have nothing to do but pamper you, my prime.”

Rodimus purred as the blue mech reached to rub his painfully swollen belly. First Aid had come by three cycles before and removed the abdominal plating from the carrying mech, exposing the protoform underneath. Since then, the prime had been insistent on keeping his torso covered with the blanket. Though it was obvious that Ultra Magnus’ gentle massaging felt good, the young prime never let him do it for long and never let him take the covers away.

All too soon, the red mech was nudging away his mate’s hand, an apology in his field. 

“Rodimus? Is something wrong?”

“Hm? No, no… why?”

The former Enforcer moved his hand near Rodimus’ distended belly, not quite resting it on the surface. Already, the prime had begun to move away. When Magnus paused, the speedster’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

“Does it hurt when I do that?” It had seemed like his little mate was enjoying the light caresses. “If I have been causing you further discomfort-“

“No! No, I like it. But…”

Rapidly growing concerned, the sire-to-be scooted closer from where he was sitting beside the berth. He allowed his field to hug Rodimus, filling it with love and adoration, just as he had done whenever his mate was hesitant or flustered or filled with self-doubt. “What ails you, my prime?”

“It’s just… uhm…” 

Ultra Magnus waited patiently, not moving closer to or further from his mate. He knew that sometimes Rodimus needed time to talk without being rushed or prodded too heavily. Patiently, he watched the other mech’s shifting face as he struggled.

“There… there are marks. Scars on it.”

“’Scars’?” Magnus couldn’t stop himself from bristling. How had Rodimus gotten scars on his protoform? Who had put them there? Why? The siring mech battened down his field and fought to keep his voice calm. “Rodimus, who did this to you? What did First Aid say?”

“No! Mags, listen. No one put the scars on my protoform. Not on my torso.”

“Then… where have they come from?” Scarring required an injury. If Megatron had somehow managed to make his mate’s carrying process even more difficult-

“First Aid, uhm- he said they were from the sparkling.”

Ultra Magnus’ racing thoughts came to a halt. “The sparkling? Is something wrong with it?” Already, the former Enforcer was preparing to open a comm. to Ratchet-

“No! Will you just calm down?”

When he finally looked at his mate and silenced the processing trees forming in his helm, the blue mech felt instantly ashamed. Rodimus’ field was a mess of anxiety as he tried to read the chaos of Magnus’ own field. The former Enforcer realized abruptly just how messy he’d allowed it to become. 

In his hurry to decipher the mystery of his conjunx’s scars, he’d allowed his field to fill with frustration and distress. None of it was aimed at Rodimus of course, but he should’ve known that that was how the young prime would see it. As quickly as he could, Magnus forced his field to level out. “I am sorry, Rodimus. I just… how have you come to have scarring on your abdominal protoform?”

“The sparkling is getting pretty big now. So First Aid had to take off the plating to make room…”

“Go on.”

“Well… the protoform had to stretch out too fast and it… tore. But on the inside! First Aid explained it better. So it’s not dangerous, I guess? It’s just…” Rodimus looked down at his cloth-covered belly, his jaw working as he squinted. “It’s ugly.”

Ultra Magnus stared at his mate, trying to put together what he was saying. “So it doesn’t hurt for me to touch you?”

“Right.”

“May I see them?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

When Rodimus looked up, tears stood in his optics. “Because! They’re ugly scars! It’s not smooth like it was and I’m embarrassed of it!”

Understanding dawned on the former Enforcer’s face and his field softened further, this time without him needing to force it. “Rodimus…” Carefully, Ultra Magnus reached toward his mate’s face. “May I?”

When the prime nodded, his optics still fixed on the blanket in front of him, the bigger mech allowed his fingertips to caress Rodimus’ helm fins. “Look at me?” Slowly, the smaller conjunx lifted his optics to Magnus’. They were dim with nervousness and the blue mech sighed. When would his mate understand? “Sweetspark, do you really think that some scars would change my feelings for you?”

Rodimus shifted before making grabby hands. Happy to oblige him, the former Enforcer crawled into the berth and pulled his sparkling-heavy mate to his chest. When they’d settled on their sides facing each other, the speedster spoke in a whisper. “I know they don’t, Mags. I know you love me and I love you. But it doesn’t make this any less upsetting for me. I… I don’t know why, I’m just embarrassed about you seeing them.”

The blue mech bent to plant a kiss to Rodimus’ golden finial. “I think that I understand. It cannot be easy having your body change so dramatically.” 

The little prime snuggled closer and took the other mech’s larger hand into his own. As he settled in, Rodimus shimmied forward until his rounded middle was pressed against Ultra Magnus’ front. Once he was as close as his tummy would allow, the red speedster moved his mate’s hand to rest on the side of it. 

Even through the blanket, the big mech could feel his sparkling reacting to the closeness of its sire. His child squirmed happily when Magnus splayed his fingers, drawing a groan from Rodimus as it gave a particularly hard kick. “Ugh, Mags. Don’t encourage him.”

Ultra Magnus chuckled and gave his mate’s helm a quick nuzzle. “May I tell you what I see? Perhaps it will help you.”

“Sure, I guess so.”

As he began to speak in a voice deep enough to vibrate in the core of Rodimus’ spark, the former Enforcer gently massaged at the tight protoform under the blanket. “I see a carrier devoted to his sparkling. A mech who has sacrificed his frame for a greater purpose. I see my beloved conjunx nurturing my sparkling, allowing it to grow strong and healthy at the expense of what some would call beauty.

“I see you are far more lovely this way than ever before. You have never been as bright or as shining as you are like this. You have given yourself away for something made of us both. If the cost is scarring, then wear it proudly. One day it will be a reminder that you surrendered your body for building another life within yourself.”

Silence fell over them when Ultra Magnus had finished.

“Primus.”

“Hm?”

“You know just what to say to get me hot, don’t you?”

The blue mech couldn’t help but laugh as he noticed that, yes, Rodimus’ frame had warmed gradually with his words. “I forget that praise is the key to your array, my prime.”

“Hmm, maybe. But only when it comes from you.” Rodimus wiggled around, pushing and shoving at the other mech until he had finally wedged himself underneath the former Enforcer. Even though he was careful to stay up on his knees, Ultra Magnus could still feel his mate’s large torso brushing his front. 

Having accomplished his goal of wrestling Magnus into place, the red mech connected optics with his mate. Slowly and deliberately, Rodimus took the sheet in his hands and drew it down away from his belly.

Ultra Magnus gazed down between them, his optics easily searching out the stretch marks on his mate’s protoform. The new angry welts crisscrossed the surface like lightning bolts. They weren’t painful as far he knew. But Magnus could see why such scars would be so upsetting to the prime. They would fade with time, sure, but they would never go away completely. In all likelihood, these scars would deepen and lengthen further before the carrying process was over.

The SIC moved and placed a series of kisses across the scarred plating, licking at the welts caused by the scars. With every mark that he lavished with attention, Rodimus’ distressed field calmed further until he was putty in his conjunx’s hands.

By the time Ultra Magnus made his way up to the prime’s neck cables, Rodimus was panting lightly through his mouth. His voice was broken and hoarse with emotion. “Primus, I love you so much it hurts, Magnus. So slagging much-“

“And I love you, my prime.” The blue mech finally claimed the speedster’s mouth with his own, pushing Rodimus down into the berth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pushes some fluff at you* Sorry again for Lipedus *crawls back to my corner*


	23. Chapter 23

Ultra Magnus paced outside the room, his hands clasped tightly behind himself. He could feel Drift watching him and refused to allow his field to waver. The former Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord would stay composed, just like he always did in public.

But he couldn’t help but feel anxious. Under the smooth exterior he’d constructed, Ultra Magnus was panicking, his spark spinning so quickly that he felt it might propel straight out of his chest. The big mech averted his optics from Drift’s searching gaze and looked back toward the door.

They’d been in the medbay since early that cycle. That morning, Magnus had come online to the sound of Rodimus moaning in pain. The young prime had been curled up tightly beside him in their berth, clutching his belly while his field swirled in confusion. The pair had shared a single look before the blue mech quickly went about helping the prime to the medbay.

Once they’d arrived, First Aid had taken a single look at Rodimus before brushing the armor clad sire away. Since then, Ultra Magnus had been walking the length of the medbay. Drift had shown up not too long after, paged by Ratchet.

“He’s gonna be fine, Magnus. Ratchet’s delivered a few sparklings. It’s all good.”

“I know. I know it will be fine.”

Outside the medbay, someone sneezed audibly. 

When it had become clear that Radius was going into early labor, Ultra Magnus had gathered the ship’s officers and explained the situation. The bridge would be held by Thunderclash because the captain, the SIC and the TIC were all involved in the emergence. Somehow or another, news had gotten out and now half of the ship’s crew were huddled outside the medbay in the hall, all careful to stay out of Ultra Magnus’ line of sight. They were doing a terrible job of staying quiet though.

Fortunately for the gathered crew, the former Enforcer was too stressed to leave the door that hid his conjunx. Instead of going and dispersing the whispering crowd, Magnus gave the medbay entrance a pointed glare. Though no one could be seen outside, the scuffling and voices dropped to silence in an instant.

“Why don’t you sit down before you wear a hole in the medbay floor, huh?” The swordsmech smiled serenely and leaned back, tapping on the chair beside himself as he did. How was he so calm? 

Ultra Magnus looked at the door of the private room a final time before seating himself stiffly at the speedster’s side. Though he appreciated the pulse of soothing energy that Drift projected at him, the blue mech couldn’t help but flinch as a yelp reached his audials through the door. It took a steadying hand from Drift to keep Magnus from standing and barging into the room. “Ratchet and First Aid have got him. He’s in the best hands that he could be in right now.”

As he tried to settle his jerking spark, the former Enforcer wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Throughout the war, he’d been faced with all variety of situations, most of them life threatening. He’d been injured and had watched his friends die. The blue mech was no stranger to stressful circumstances

But nothing had gotten to him quite like this. Before the cycle was over, Ultra Magnus was going to be a sire, the proud creator of a little mechling. The reality of it wouldn’t quite settle in. He was torn between being incomparably excited and terrified beyond all reason.

What if his child didn’t like him? What if they didn’t get along? What if there were complications, what if-

“Mech, you gotta vent. He’s gonna be-“

“Fine. You’ve said that, Drift, and it still ceases to be of much help to me.”

Despite the clear annoyance in the SIC’s field, Drift gave him a wide smile. “Aren’t you excited? Roddy’s gonna be a creator! With you! And I’m gonna be- an uncle? Kind of? Whatever. This is great!”

Ultra Magnus had just opened his mouth to reply when the door flew open.

The blue mech was on his peds in an instant, his optics connecting with Ratchet’s. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the grin on the former CMO’s face. “What is-“

“Hurry, get in here!”

His optics narrowing, the former Enforcer strode quickly into the room on Ratchet’s heels. As the ambulance guided him further in, Ultra Magnus became caught up in the flurry of excitement that had taken over the hastily prepped emergence room.

Every medic on the ship was present, performing in one capacity or another. They were all talking, all moving, passing each other instruments, connecting IVs, transporting medical grade. But all of the chaos faded away when the big mech’s optics finally found his mate.

Rodimus lay on the mediberth, his peds raised up in the stirrups. The young prime’s frame glowed with a sheen of moisture, his vents releasing gusts of steam as he heaved great gasps of air. Nearly white optics were fixed with rapt attention on First Aid who was directing his vent patterns and monitoring his spark patterns at the head of the berth. 

Ultra Magnus allowed himself to be shoved to the captain’s side by Ratchet who then turned and took his place between Rodimus’ spread legs.

The young prime’s optics were wide and fever-bright as he remained fixated on the current CMO. First Aid continued talking to the laboring mech, gently interspersing his direction with swipes of a cool cloth against Rodimus’ helm. “You’re doing very well, Rodimus… Look who’s here-”

A klik later, the former Enforcer found himself drowning in his mate’s blurry gaze. At first, there seemed to be no recognition, the prime’s pain-addled processor focused entirely on the pain of birthing the sparkling. But the momentary lapse was soon broken as Rodimus reached and clutched at Magnus’ hand with a surprising amount of strength. “M-Mags! You came!”

“Of course, little one.” Ultra Magnus leaned in and pressed a kiss against his conjunx’s slick helm. “I wouldn’t it miss this for anything.”

Rodimus made to smile, but another contraction stole his focus. A strangled cry tore itself from the smaller mech’s throat and the blue mech watched as his mate’s optic’s glazed over once more.

“Keep pushing, Rodimus! You’re almost done!” Ratchet, seated on a stool at the foot of the mediberth, was staring intently at the stretching valve in front of him. Already, he had a towel in his hands, poised to catch the sparkling as it came free. 

Ultra Magnus took his mate’s hand in his own as he leaned down the berth to get a closer look. A tiny helm had become visible, crowning with the prime’s last push. 

_My sparking. My creation. ___

__“If you f-faint, I’ll n-never forgive you.”_ _

__Though the red speedster’s voice was halting and strained, it was clear enough for the blue mech to make out. He grinned up at Rodimus before looking back down to where Ratchet was working. “We’re going to be creators.”_ _

__The young prime snorted before seizing up with pain and glaring at his conjunx. “You think I don’t know that?!”_ _

__Ratchet interrupted before the sire-to-be could reply. “Alright, Rodimus! PUSH!”_ _

__The red mech threw his helm back against the pillows, his spinal strut arching as he struggled to bear down. Rodimus bared his denta at the ceiling as the contraction stole his thoughts and his optics flared white. His torso tightening further, the laboring mech turned his face into his mate’s neck cables. “Mags, I can’t-!”_ _

__“I know you can. We have beaten the odds thus far. You can-“_ _

__The smaller mech relaxed for a moment as the contraction appeared to fade away. Rodimus field was full of distress when his overload ended, his optics searching out his mate’s as the next urge to push already began to build. “So tired- Mags- “_ _

__“I know you are, my love. We are almost there.”_ _

__Ratchet’s helm popped up from over the edge of the berth. In other circumstances, his sudden appearance between Rodimus’ legs might’ve been comical. “Give me one more, Rodimus. One more now-“_ _

__The young prime screamed as the contraction tore through his exhausted frame and he gripped Ultra Magnus’ hand more tightly than ever. The blue mech wondered fleetingly if there would be dents on his knuckles-_ _

__Rodimus’ optics flared and sparks crackled between his seams plating as his overload peaked once more._ _

__Ultra Magnus faintly heard the splash of lubricant as it hit the floor down at the foot of the berth. He felt the young prime shudder suddenly and reached for his mate’s face, turning it in toward his neck. The memory of the spark merge was still strong in his processor as he pulled Rodimus to him, shielding the smaller mech from the flurry of activity around them. He knew that he couldn’t protect his mate from the pain-_ _

__The blue mech froze as a small but strong cry rang throughout the room._ _


	24. Chapter 24

The sound seemed to give Rodimus strength and he shifted in the arms of his mate. “Mags, where…?”

The former Enforcer lifted his bowed helm, searching for the source of the noise himself. Something within him was drawing him toward it, filling him with a desperate need to protect the owner of that tiny voice. As his protective sire coding took hold, Ultra Magnus finally spotted the source of the muffled mewls that filled the still-bustling room. 

Ratchet was moving up the berth slowly, a bundle balanced carefully in his arms as he wiped fluids from it. The experienced medic was withdrawing his medical cords back into his own arm, his quick analysis of the sparkling’s health already finished. By the smile on his face, he’d found everything to be fine. Ultra Magnus kept his gaze on the bundle as the medic came closer.

When the medic finally looked up at the sire and carrier, his optics were the warmest blue that Magnus had ever seen. “Congratulations. A healthy mechling.”

And Ultra Magnus couldn’t find words as the medic held out the bundled up sparkling to him. He could only stare down at its round little face, trying to remember how to vent. 

It was beautiful. Only it’s face was visible as it was wrapped completely in the towel, but Primus… it’s pointed little nose, the way it was scrunched with displeasure at being jostled around. The little yawn it gave, its expressive mouth opening as wide as it could go. The warmth it pushed out through the blanket as its field explored for the first time… and recognizing that its sire was near. When his child’s two optics fluttered open to look up at him, Ultra Magnus felt his knees go weak.

His entire world centered around the brilliant red optics of his child. And when the sparkling smiled up at him, reading him as his sire, the former Enforcer felt his spark swell and threaten to spin out of control. “Hello, my little one.”

The sparkling regarded him seriously for a moment before burbling a string of nonsense, struggling to free his stubby arms from the towel. It blinked up at its sire, finally giving up on getting free and releasing a chirr of displeasure.

“Mags, Mags, lemme see…”

Ultra Magnus turned back to face his mate. Rodimus was being propped up on some pillows by Velocity, his field and face already drooping with exhaustion. As the blue mech drew near, he tilted the bundle down until the prime could see the sparkling. 

Finally seeing his sparkling’s face, the red mech’s face lit with awe. “Primus… he’s perfect, Mags.”

Hearing Rodimus’ voice, the mechling looked away from his sire, trying to locate his carrier. Upon seeing the prime laying on the berth, the little sparkling’s face screwed up and it tried even harder to escape the confines of Ratchet’s expert swaddling skills. With its gaze flicking between its creators, the small creature’s mouth twisted and its optics rapidly began to fill with tears.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” Rodimus wrapped his arms around the sparkling as Magnus lay it on his chest, crooning softly at his creation. Seeing that he’d reached his carrier at last, the mechling smiled and nuzzled against the kiss that his carrier delivered to his helm. 

The speedster gazed down at the bundle once more before looking up at his mate. Tears of joy stood in the corners of his optics, preparing to fall down his face. 

Rodimus was completely overwhelmed by the tiny being on his chest. Careful not to pull on its arms or legs, the prime fumbled with the towel until the sparkling’s limbs were free. “Now, now, you gotta stay right here-“

The mechling pinwheeled his little arms, his red optics wide as he squealed happily. It wasn’t immediately obvious what the sparkling’s frame type was, but his coloring was distinctive enough. The sparkling was vibrant red, his plating still malleable from having just been born. As Rodimus lifted his first born closer to get a better look, it reached out to his face, tiny hands batting as it giggled.

Ultra Magnus watched as his conjunx and his sparkling looked at each other, the healthy sparkling’s plating a near exact copy of Rodimus’ hue. He watched, his spark threatening to choke him, as his son reached forward even further and pushed himself against the tired carrier’s face plates. It was the most wonderful, pure thing that the former Enforcer had ever seen.

“Hey, babe. How’re you feelin’?”

Drift had materialized on Rodimus’ other side, his optics warm as he gazed down at his amica and the sparkling. He reached forward and patted the top of the mechling’s helm. Rodimus gave his friend a tired smile, sighing quietly. “Just sleepy. Wanna meet him?”

Sensing the presence of a new but somehow familiar field, the sparkling pulled away from Rodimus just far enough to look up at the swordsmech. Suddenly shy, Drift wiggled his fingers at the mechling in the semblance of a wave. “Hey there, sweetspark. I’m Drift.”

Big ruby optics shuttered a few times before the little one cocked his helm to the side. He still seemed tentative as the white speedster ventured closer. “I’m your carrier’s amica. It’s great to meet you!”

After a klik or two longer of studying Drift, the mechling reached out both arms to the white mech, his little fingers opening and closing as he stretched toward his carrier’s amica. Drift stepped back quickly, looking at Ultra Magnus for permission. When the blue mech nodded, the swordsmech came forward again.

With huge optics, the white speedster scooped the mechling off of Rodimus’ chest. Drift’s field was awash with delight as the newborn nestled against his neck cables, purring slightly and digging its delicate fingers into his plating. The TIC looked over at Ratchet and found that his conjunx was already watching. The medic smiled at his mate, shaking his helm as the speedster entwined his arms around the tiny life cradled against his chest. 

Rolling his optics ceilingward, Ratchet looked down at Rodimus where he was still laying on the mediberth. “You’ll have a Pit of a time getting him back now.”

But the prime didn’t answer, instead watching as his amica pulled the mechling back from his neck cables. He watched as Drift cooed at the sparkling, the newborn shrieking with joy at the faces that the white mech made. Rodimus shared a look with his conjunx before he relaxed back into the mediberth, glad that Drift was getting on well with his sparkling. He was spent.

Everyone on the room paused to watch the spark-warming scene as Drift peppered the giggling sparkling’s face with kisses. When he was finished, the babe laughed again and tried returning the favor, his ‘kisses’ leaving slobbery lubricant all over the swordsmech’s face. But Drift didn’t care, nor did he notice his audience as he tickled the sparkling’s belly and moved to lay it back in Rodimus’ arms. “What’re you gonna call him?”

The question took the new creators off guard and they looked at each other. They’d talked endlessly about what it might look like, whether it would be a mechling or a femmeling, the way they’d have Brainstorm and Perceptor fashion the crib. How had they never talked about names?

Drift seemed to sense their hesitation and looked up and between them. “You… don’t have any names picked out?”

“No. We, uh…” Rodimus caught his mate’s optic again and shrugged sheepishly. 

Ultra Magnus returned the expression before smiling. “I suppose we shall wait to get to know him first.”

The young prime had just opened his mouth to agree, when an unexpected voice interrupted. 

“Thank Primus ‘e don’t look like you, Magnus. He’d scowl all the time.”

Whirl was peeking in the door, his single optic no bigger than a pinprick as it zeroed in on the sparkling in Rodimus’ arms. He clacked his claws, drawing the little one’s attention.

“Whirl! The slag are you doing?! This is a private-“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. But no one told us how it was going. Can I tell them?”

But before anyone could answer, the helicopter was gone, bolting across the medbay with Ratchet on his heels. First Aid opened the door wider to watch them go.   
From inside the private emergence room, everyone could hear Whirl’s excited shouts.

“It’s a mech! It’s a mech and they’re takin’ suggestions for a name!” 

Ultra Magnus smiled down at his mate as a cheer rose from the hallway outside, several voices calling congratulations and an assortment of terrible name suggestions. Usually, he wouldn’t have tolerated such an audience disrespecting their privacy. But right now, he was too overwhelmed to care too much. He’d write them all up later.

The big mech leaned in over their sparkling, looking deep into Rodimus’ optics. “I love you, my prime.”

The red speedster laughed, his field bright with true, incomparable happiness. “I love you too, Magnus.”

Closing his optics, the former Enforcer kissed his mate, deeply and without reservation, paying the medics around them and the crew out in the hall no mind. His captain kissed him back, smiling against his lips as their sparkling’s helm bumped against their chins.


	25. Chapter 25

The former Enforcer watched from his chair as his mate fiddled with his own fuel processing unit. With Ratchet’s careful guidance, the young prime had opened his port and was tentatively unspooling one of the hoses from it. “So, he fuels out of this thing? Like, straight from me?”

“Yes,” Ratchet reached and took the nubbed tip of the slender tube and held is up so that the new creator could see. “The sparkling will attach himself to this end. Once that happens, your frame will recognize the sparkling and begin to process energon for him. His tanks haven’t completely formed yet as he’s been receiving his fuel directly from you in your gestation chamber. Until his tanks have strengthened and gotten more solid, your body will process the energon until it is a safe grade for him to fuel with.”

Rodimus’ field was alight with excitement at the prospect of fueling his sparkling for the first time. His field danced happily as he spoke, optics shining and clear. “Well, where is he? Let’s get started!”

“He’s with First Aid right now, running some tests-“

The speedster’s face grew serious instantly. “Is there something wrong? Is he okay?”

But even as he asked those questions, the medic was already holding up his hands and shaking his helm. “He’s fine, he’s fine. It’s just a precaution. With your spark having carried the Matrix and Minimus being a load bearer… we just want to make sure that everything is normal. Well, as normal as a creation of yours could be.”

Rodimus smiled, recognizing the teasing tone in the former CMO’s field. “There’s no way he’ll be normal, Ratch. He’s gonna be the best mechling that there ever was. Right, Mims?”

The sire nodded, his lips curved in a barely perceivable smile. Ever since their sparkling had emerged and Rodimus had gotten some well-deserved rest, the captain had been telling anyone who’d listen just how wonderful his sparkling was going to grow up to be. The young prime endlessly talked about how smart and strong and intelligent their child was, how bright his optics were, how much he was already learning. It was endearing to see how happy the child made his mate.

Having received Minimus’ agreement on the topic, Rodimus looked toward the door again expectantly. “So how long will the tests take? Don’t you think he’s hungry? It’s been three cycles!” Sudden fear shown on the speedster’s face. “Could it die? Ratchet, he needs to refuel, what if he-“

“Rodimus, relax. The sparkling is fine and will be here shortly.” The ambulance offered a rare smile as he continued checking the integrity of Rodimus fuel processing port. “He was well-fueled while in your gestation chamber. He’s been fine without refueling for this long and I promise you that he won’t die. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

The medic continued to poke at the various cords and even gave one or two a tug to test durability. It made the prime grimace and grit his denta. 

As the ambulance kept picking at his components, Rodimus glanced at his mate in the chair. “And Mims is good on spark energy? Like, he’s all checked out and it won’t hurt him or anything? And his spark type won’t hurt the sparkling?”

Strangely patient, Ratchet tucked away the red mech’s fuel processing equipment and turned to Minimus Ambus. “I’m certain that everything will be just fine, Rodimus. I have more experience in this field than any other medic around. Minimus and the sparkling will be fine-“

The private room’s door opened then. A klik later First Aid pushed inside, the cherry red sparkling balanced in his arms. At the sight of his creation, the worry in Rodimus’ field evaporated in its entirety. “Hey! How’s my mini-me doing, huh?”

Spotting his carrier, the mechling squealed with delight, struggling and trying to escape the entering medic’s arms. First Aid fought to hold onto the little one just long enough to make his way to the prime’s berthside, sitting the sparkling in Rodimus’ arms. With a pleased chirr, the tiny mechling climbed up onto his carrier’s chest to nuzzle at the young prime’s face.

Ratchet scanned the test results with First Aid quickly before smiling at Minimus. “Test results are clear. One of the strongest sparklings I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s great! You hear that, sweetspark? Ratchet admitted that you’re awesome.” Likely not understanding a single word that his carrier said, the mechling read the excitement in Rodimus’ voice and giggled accordingly, gazing around at all of the optics watching him. It was already clear that the mechling loved attention, just like his carrier.

“Can I feed him, Ratchet?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Minimus continued listening to the test results as he watched Rodimus begin clumsily unspooling his energon processing hose. The mechling watched, seeming to sense what was happening. He focused on his creator with unusually rapt attention until the prime extended the nubby tip of the hose to him. When Rodimus popped the end into his little mouth, the sparkling closed his brilliant red optics and started to fuel, purring all the while. 

Rodimus instinctively began to relax, laying back into the pillows as his creation nestled against his side. “So. Test results. What else did you find?”

Ratchet was still flipping through the datapad, swiping and discussing with First Aid as they went. “Well, his spark tests are showing increased speed and an unusually high temperature.” The medic smiled at Minimus on the other side of the berth. “It’s looking like he might be a point one percenter. Maybe even a load bearer depending on whose size he takes after.”

The former Enforcer gazed down at his creation where it lay kneading its little hands against Rodimus’ plating. His son, a point one preceptor. Such a rare spark type to have and yet here they were, two of them in the same medbay room. Plus, his carrier had once carried the Matrix of Leadership. Their sparkling truly had everything going for him from both sides of his make up.

“However, it appears that his loadbearing capabilities might be… cancelled out.”

Minimus looked away from his mate and first born, back to Ratchet. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

“Well,” the former CMO shifted on his peds, squinting at the datapad in his hands. He shared a look with First Aid before continuing. “Your sparkling is showing signs of being a triple changer. It would explain his indeterminate alt mode.”

Triple changers were known for having short life expectancies. Their abilities, though a gift, were also a curse. By being able to triple change and having two alt modes, these mechs and femme’s suffered higher amounts of stress on their bodies and sparks. To have a sparkling who was a triple changer would usually be bittersweet.

“But like I said, he also appears to have a point one percenter spark. Combined… it would require more testing, but I believe that your sparkling may expect to have normal life expectancy.”

“But… rather than that he’s okay, right?”

“Yes. He’s perfectly healthy otherwise.”

As Ratchet closed the datapad and turned to continue talking to First Aid, Rodimus looked sleepily up at his mate. The pair connected optics and shared a smile before Minimus reached to brush his fingertips across the back of his creation’s helm. The sparkling, still feeding, blinked up at him, his little optics unfocused and lazy. The green mech gazed down at the tiny miracle before lifting his attention back to his prime. “I have been thinking of names for him.”

“Oh?” The carrier sniffled a little, shifting himself higher onto the mediberth. “Whatcha got?”

Minimus pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the mediberth. He continued to pet his fueling sparkling’s helm as he spoke. “I wanted something reminiscent of you. You remind me of fire and I already see so much of you in our child.” 

As Rodimus blushed and cast his gaze down bashfully, the former Enforcer continued. “It’s true, dear one. The names I have come up with reflect what I see in you. What do you think of Firestorm?”

“Hmm. I like it, but it sounds a little too seeker-esque, you know? The fire theme is cool though. Any others?”

Minimus narrowed his optics, considering for a klik. “What do you think of Swiftblaze?”

“I like that one, too. How about-“

A questioning squeak sounded from between them and the pair of conjunx looked down. The mechling, his face smudged with evidence of his recent meal, sat upright and was looking up at his sire. He cocked his helm and whistled softly at Minimus.

Rodimus and the green mech shared a look before the prime whispered, “Swiftblaze?”

Immediately, the attentive red mechling swiveled his helm to loom up at his carrier, his bright optics focused intently on Rodimus. The prime laughed lightly before plucking up his creation and sitting the sparkling on his chest plates. “Is your name Swiftblaze?”

As if understanding, the mechling clapped his tiny hands, screeching with high pitched laughter. Rodimus looked at his mate. “Well, I guess that’s decided then. Swiftblaze it is!”


	26. Chapter 26

Intelligent ruby optics watched Rodimus as the young prime slowly made his way to his peds. It had been nearly two cycles since the emergence had occurred and Rodimus had been cleared to go home to his hab. Though he was being released, Ratchet had insisted in berth for another three cycles at least.

Every time his mate wobbled, Ultra Magnus reached to steady him, longing to simply sweep the red mech up into his arms and carry him. But whenever he began to move forward, Ratchet glared from where he stood on Rodimus’ other side, warning him off. The speedster needed to stand on his own. Though his strength still hadn’t fully recovered, it was important for him to regain his energy and prove it to himself.

“How are you feeling, Rodimus?”

Ratchet kept a careful optic on the creator, staying close in case the speedster’s legs gave out. “I’m… dizzy?”

“Completely normal, this being your first carrying experience. Let’s sit you back down now. First Aid will be bringing in a-“

But Rodimus was reaching for the bundle in his mate’s arms. Swiftblaze studied his carrier as the prime smiled weakly at him, mirroring Rodimus’ facial expression as he squirmed in Ultra Magnus’ arms. Rodimus’ optics brightened once more to focus on his creation. “Hey, ‘Blaze! Can you say ‘hey’?”

Swiftblaze squealed happily and fought to free his little arms from the wrappings as Rodimus wiggled his fingers at him in a wave. The shrill sound caused Magnus to wince, but he was quick to smile as he handed the mechling to his waiting mate. His spark swelled at the sight of his beloved conjunx and their precious creation. 

When Rodimus fumbled a little, Ratchet moved quickly to help the exhausted carrier to sit back down on the mediberth. “I told you not to push yourself! If I can’t trust you to listen to me, you have to stay here.”

“No! No, Ratch, I promise, I’ll be good. Mags will make sure I do everything you say. Right, Mags?”

“Indeed. No matter how hard you argue.”

“See? Once an Enforcer, always an Enforcer. I’m in good hands." 

Ratchet rolled his optics in exasperation as First Aid came into the room, pushing a mobile chair ahead of himself. “You have to remember that you are feeding yourself and Swiftblaze now. It will be some time before you feel like yourself again. Magnus, make sure he takes the nutrients on time?”

“Of course.” Ultra Magnus moved to help his mate stand once more, making certain that his sparkling was secure in Rodimus’ arms. He needn’t have worried. 

The prime’s entire focus was centered around their child as First Aid helped the blue mech lower Rodimus into the waiting mobile chair. The speedster lifted a fingertip to tickle Swiftblaze’s perfect little nose. “What do you think of all this, huh? You ready to go home?”

Blinking and pulling his mouth into an irresistible smile, the sparkling giggled as his nasal bridge was tweaked by his carrier. A moment later, Swiftblaze’s face screwed up and he gasped a few vents before the most adorable sneeze erupted from his frame. The force of it left the mechling’s optics crossed and his developing field awash with surprise. The sight of his child so startled by the sneeze made even the stoic Ultra Magnus chuckle softly.

Rodimus dipped his helm to plant a series of kisses against his creation’s helm and Swiftblaze’s nervous field dissolved into happy chirrs and babbled nonsense. “Did that scare you, sweetspark?” The young prime continued dousing his son with attention as the mechling batted at his cheeks with tiny hands. “You know I love you, right? So so much, right? I’d never ever let a nasty sneeze hurt my little ‘Blaze, or anything else, okay? No I wouldn’t-“

“So when do we get to see him?”

The four present mechs turned to the doorway, fully expecting to see Whirl lurking there. Instead, Tailgate’s helm was poking in, his blue visor flashing quickly when he saw the sparkling in Rodimus’ arms. “Oh! Is that him? I mean, of course it is. What’s his name? Oh Primus, I’m being rude, I mean- congrats, sir! Sorry for interrupting! They said I should come check in-“

“You’re…” Ratchet’s anger at having someone intruding his medbay evaporated quickly. “You’re all still out in the hall?”

Tailgate nodded vigorously, his helm bobbing as he pushing a little further into the room. “Yeah! We’ve stayed outside since we heard it was happening! Plus, Swerve’s been bringing energon so we could camp out-“

When Ultra Magnus moved toward the door, he had every intention of dispersing the crowd still gathered outside the medbay. It was highly inappropriate and a violation of privacy. Furthermore, it was a fire hazard and he doubted if shift changes had been moving smoothly as a result of all the excitement-

“Mags! Don’t send ‘em away. They just wanna see him.” Rodimus still cradled the sparkling in his arms, bouncing it and rocking it a little as his mate turned back to look at him. 

The annoyance in the former Enforcer’s field softened as he came back to his mate in the mobile chair. “I understand that, my prime. But it is highly inappropriate…”

“They are our crew. They’ve stood by me through the worst and best times of my life.” The red speedster’s smile was warm as he gazed up at his conjunx. His field was full of happiness, pure and unhindered for the first time in a long time. “I wanna show Swiftblaze the rest of his family, Mags. Can we?”

Tailgate squealed happily when Ultra Magnus smiled and nodded. Really, he couldn’t refuse his mate anything if he tried, especially with the way Rodimus looked now. The captain was practically glowing where he sat wrapped in a blanket with their sparkling laying on his chest. “I suppose a glimpse wouldn’t hurt.”

The white minibot spun and scuttled across the medbay as Ultra Magnus began to push the mobile chair out of the private room. Ratchet shook his helm as they went, mumbling. But as he watched the new creator’s share a look before gazing down at their first born, even the grumpy old medic couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

“They’re coming! They’re bringing him out here!”

Within kliks, the entire hallway was loud with several voices, all of them trying to be heard as the captain and his SIC appeared in the door to the medbay. It became clear quickly that the hall was completely packed. Even as the blue mech towered over most of the bots on board the Lost Light, he couldn’t see where the excited throng ended.

When Rodimus tucked back the blanket and the sparkling came into view, the hallway fell absolutely silent. Those closest to the new creators leaned inward, trying to get a glimpse of the ship’s newest member. 

Batting his optics at the hallway’s bright lighting, Swiftblaze pulled his face away from where he’d tucked it against his carrier’s neck. Rodimus coaxed the smaller version of himself out of hiding, peppering his face with kisses. “Come on out, ‘Blaze. They want to meet you…”

The mechling gazed out at the assembled crew, his field wavering with uncertainty as he took in so many new faces. Ultra Magnus suddenly feared that his child would become frightened and moved to pull his mate and sparkling back into the medbay. But before he could do so, however, Swiftblaze beeped excitedly. The former Enforcer looked up to see Drift coming toward them through the crowd.

“Hey sweetspark! How we doin’ this cycle?” The sparkling wriggled around in his carrier’s arms as his favorite visitor approached, his developing, barely-perceivable field stretched thin as he tried to greet Drift. 

Rodimus chuckled and lifted his creation up to his amica. The new sparkling burbled as he was passed into the swordsmech’s arms, swatting spiritedly at Drift’s prominent helm finials. “Ah, feeling playful, huh? Tell you what. We meet your new friends and then we can go take a nap. How’s that sound?”

As if understanding, the mechling trilled high in his vocalizer and Drift lifted him over his helm. Swiftblaze swung his limbs about as if he were trying to take flight.

“So what’s he turn into?” 

Whirl sauntered closer from where he stood in the front row. Ultra Magnus barely stopped himself from growling as the notoriously unstable helicopter reached toward his sparkling. Drift stayed still as Whirl reached closer, his optics trained for any sign that the little one in his care was in danger-

The gangly mech slowly petted Swiftblaze’s helm with a claw, drawing the sparkling’s attention to him. “Well, yer a little thing, aren’t you? And red too, like your carrier. Nice!”

The mechling whistled softly at Whirl, his optics widening when he caught sight of the new mech. Whirl continued smoothing a single claw tip over the delicate helm finials and Swiftblaze extended a hand to pat clumsily at the helicopter. As his fingertips connected with Whirl’s helm, the empurata-style optic of the mech dilated from the dot it had previously been. Swiftblaze purred as the helicopter continued rubbing his helm with light strokes.

Nearby, Tailgate tugged on Cyclonus’ talon-tipped hand, whispering loudly. “I think Nutjob made a new friend!”

Ignoring them all, Whirl pushed his helm closer to the sparkling, allowing Swiftblaze’s hands to wander over him. “Yeah, it ain’t too bad. Little different, huh?”

“Oh, come on, Whirl! We wanna see too!” Behind the helicopter, another mech was making his way forward, dragging his less-eager intended behind himself. “Oh, Percy, isn’t he cute?!”

Brainstorm’s golden optics shown brightly from just over Whirl’s shoulder. Behind him, his lab partner and intended, Perceptor, stood with a blank face, carefully examining the mechling in Drift’s arms. The sniper narrowed an optic. “An undetermined alt mode?”

“A triple changer. At least that’s what tests point to.” Ratchet made his way to Drift’s side. His field still held some annoyance at having such a crowd outside his medbay, but he said nothing about it as he gazed down at Swiftblaze. “From what I can tell, it appears that one of them is flight capable.”

The teal jet came closer until he too could pet lightly at the sparkling’s helm. “Just look at him, Percy! Isn’t he adorable?”

Perceptor didn’t respond as he looked down at the newborn in the swordsmech’s hold. Ultra Magnus couldn’t help but notice the way he watched his intended play with Swiftblaze, like he was almost…wistful? Before the blue mech could be certain however, the microscope was leading his gushing lab partner back into the crowd, giving the little red triple changer a final glance as he went.

“Congratulations, Magnus and Rodimus. You must be proud.” 

Rung slipped around Whirl, extending his slender hand to take Ultra Magnus’. “Thank you, doctor. We most certainly are.”

The little psychiatrist’s trademark brows shifted as he watched Whirl click his claws in front of the sparkling’s face, making Swiftblaze laugh. Above, Drift pressed a kiss to the creation’s helm, rocking him as he played with Whirl. The sight drew a smile to Rung’s face. “I’m happy that you both have this. Many are not so lucky as to experience such a blessing.”

Ultra Magnus nodded as he watched the former Decepticon assassin and the empurata survivor draw giggles from his offspring. The former Enforcer did not miss the flash of melancholy in the psychiatrist’s own field. “I understand, Rung. I do not take this blessing for granted.”

With a nod and a wide smile, Rung retreated back into the pressing crowd. 

Everyone was laughing along with the sparkling, watching as Rewind and Chromedome came forward to congratulate a yawning Rodimus. The speedster, though obviously tired, was smiling so wide that it had to ache, accepting handshakes as more of the crew came forward to meet their new crew member. Even Cyclonus was tugged forward by an insistent Tailgate, leaning forward to allow the sparkling to poke curiously at his face. At finding the purple jet’s cheeks to be hollow, Swiftblaze squealed with delight, causing a chuckle to ripple through the gathered crowd.

Ultra Magnus connected optics with his mate, his conjunx, his prime. The speedster winked at him from the mobile chair, allowing Ratchet to tuck the blanket up around his chin. The blue mech felt his throat tighten as he gazed at the carrier of his firstborn, feeling so overwhelmed that he could barely think beyond the other mech’s face. Unable to stay still, Magnus knelt beside the mobile chair, shielding Rodimus from the majority of the gathered crew.

The young prime sighed as he turned his gaze back to Drift and his sparkling, currently meeting a cooing Nautica and Nightbeat. “You know… I think they like him.”

“Do you? I wouldn’t know.”

“Is that sarcasm I hear? How unlike you, Mags.” 

The pair of creators watched as their crew mingled around, all talking about the sparkling, half of them in baby-talk, sing-song voices. Nearby, Brainstorm and Perceptor had begun debating the cradle’s design. Ratchet had crept up beside his mate and was gently crooning to the sparkling, keeping his voice low so that only Drift and Swiftblaze could hear. Whirl and Tailgate and Cyclonus had retreated to stand against the wall, all nursing fresh drinks curtesy of the ever-elusive Swerve. Somewhere in the back Thunderclash could be heard, having freshly arrived from the bridge and eager to meet his captain’s sparkling.

As they watched their crew bonding over their sparkling, the couple knew that everything they’d been through had been worth it for this moment. They’d come out on top against terrible odds. Together, the pair had made it through and now they’d been blessed with a final miracle.

Rodimus tilted his face up, asking for a kiss. The former Enforcer gave it happily, ignoring the silence that fell over the gathered bots around them. He also ignored the loud applause that they gave at seeing their captain and SIC share a kiss.

He could write them all up later after all.

Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... it's been a wild ride. This installation is by no means my last one for this series, but I'm battling some tough stuff right now. Anxiety, depression, you know the deal. Anyway, I'm far from done, so bear with me and thanks for all the support! :)


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